UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA,  SAN  DIEGO 


3  1822  02343  1174 


unive;€:ty  op 


presented  to  the 
UNIVERSITY  LIBRARY 
UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA 
SAN  DIEGO 

by 


Mrs.    Townsend 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA   SAN  DIEGO^ 


3  1822  02343  1174     , 


f 


,  ti**'^' 


»jt->'#lUS  ijii"       """^lUtS 


Portrait  of  Victor  Hugo. 

Etched  by  L^on  dbisson.  —  From  drawing  by  Deveria. 


a«£(  of  Sttlantr 


IN   TWO  VOLUMES 
VOL.    I. 


BY 


VICTOR    H  U  GO 


Centeuar|)  etitton 


BOSTON     ■     DANA     ESTES     & 
COMPANY     •     PUBLISHERS 


3ri)r    (^cntenarg    JEtrition 

LIMITED     TO     ONE    THOUSAND 
COPIES      •      NUMBER     BSB 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS. 
VOL.  L 

Paos 
Portrait  op  Victor  Hugo Frontispiece 

schumacker  blessing  the  young  couple 22 

"  He  blew  a  loub  blast  on  a  horn  " 40 

Hans  of  Iceland  finding  the  Body  of  his  Son,  Gill  Stadt      68 

SCHTJMACKER  AND   HIS   DAUGHTER  IN  THE   PRISON   GaRDEN       .         97 

Ordener  bidding  Ethel  farewell 113 


i:n'troductiok. 


«  TJ  ANS  of  Iceland  "  is  the  work  of  a  young  man,  —  g 
very  young  man. 

As  we  read  it,  we  see  clearly  that  the  eighteen-year  old 
boy  who  wrote  "  Hans  of  Iceland  "  during  a  fever  fit  in  1821 
had  no  experience  of  men  or  things,  no  experience  of  ideas, 
and  that  he  was  striving  to  divine  all  this. 

Every  intellectual  effort,  be  it  drama,  poem,  or  romance, 
must  contain  three  ingredients,  —  what  the  author  has  felt, 
what  he  has  observed,  and  what  he  has  divined. 

In  a  romance  particularly,  if  it  is  to  be  a  good  one,  there 
must  be  plenty  of  feeling  aud  plenty  of  observation ;  and 
those  things  which  are  divined  must  be  derived  logically, 
simply,  and  with  no  solution  of  continuity,  from  those 
things  which  are  observed  and  ielt. 

If  we  apply  this  law  to  "Hans  of  Iceland,"  we  shall 
readily  grasp  the  chief  defect  of  the  book. 

There  is  but  one  thing  felt  in  "Hans  of  Iceland,"  the 
young  man's  love:  but  one  thing  observed,  the  young  girl's 
love.  All  the  rest  is  a  matter  of  divination,  —  that  is,  of 
invention ;  for  youth,  having  neither  facts  nor  experience 
nor  models  behind  it,  can  only  divine  by  means  of  its  im- 
agmatiouo  "  Hans  of  Iceland,"  tlierefore,  admitting  that 
it  deserves  classification,  is  hardly  more  than  a  fanciful 
romance. 

When  a  man's  prime  is  '^ast.  when  his  head  is  bowed, 
when   he  feels  compelled   lc  write   something  more  thun 


6  INTRODUCTION. 

strange  stories  to  frighten  old  women  and  children,  when 
•  all  the  rough  edges  of  youth  are  worn  away  by  the  friction 
of  life,  he  realizes  that  every  invention,  every  creation,  every 
artistic  divination,  must  be  based  upon  study,  observation, 
meditation,  science,  measure,  comparison,  serious  reflection, 
attentive  aaJ  constant  imitation  of  Kature,  conscientious 
self-criticism  ;  and  the  inspiration  evolved  from  these  new 
conditions,  far  from  losing  anything,  gains  broader  influence 
and  greater  strength.  The  poet  then  realizes  his  true  aim. 
All  the  vague  revery  of  his  earlier  years  is  crystallized,  as 
it  were,  and  converted  into  thought.  This  second  period 
of  life  is  usually  that  of  an  artist's  greatest  works.  Still 
young,  and  yet  mature,  —  this  is  the  precious  .phase,  the 
intermediate  and  culminating  point,  the  warm  and  radiant 
hour  of  noon,  the  moment  when  there  is  the  least  possible 
shade,  and  the  most  light.  There  are  supreme  artists  who 
maintain  this  height  all  their  lives,  despite  declining  years. 
These  are  the  sovereign  geniuses.  Shakespeare  and  Michael 
Angelo  left  the  impress  of  youth  upon  some  of  their  works, 
the  traces  of  age  on  none. 

To  return  to  the  story  of  which  a  new  edition  is  '^ow  to 
be  published :  Such  as  it  is,  with  its  abrupt  and  breathless 
action,  its  characters  all  of  a  piece,  its  barbarous  and  bun- 
gling mannerism,  its  supercilious  and  awkward  form,  its  un- 
disguised moods  of  revery,  its  varied  hues  thrown  together 
haphazard  with  no  thought  of  pleasing  the  eye,  its  crude, 
harsh,  and  shocking  style,  utterly  destitute  of  skill  or  shad- 
ing, with  the  countless  excesses  of  every  kinc^  committed 
almost  unwittingly  throughout,  this  book  represents  with 
tolerable  accuracy  the  period  of  life  at  which  it  was  written, 
and  the  particular  condition  of  the  soul,  the  imagination, 
and  the  heart  of  a  youth  in  love  for  the  first  time,  when 
the  commonplace  and  ordinary  obstacles  of  life  are  con- 
verted into  imposing  and  poetic  impediments,  when  his 
head  is  full  of  heroic  fancies  which  glorify  him  in  his  own 


INTRODUCTION.  7 

estimation,  when  he  is  already  a  man  in  two  or  three  direc- 
tions, and  still  a  child  in  a  score  of  others,  when  he  has  read 
Ducray-Duminil  at  eleven  years  of  age,  Augnste  la  Fon- 
taine at  thirteen,  Shakespeare  at  sixteen,  —  a  strange  and 
rapid  scale,  which  leads  abruptly,  in  the  matter  of  literary 
taste,  from  the  silly  to  the  sentimental,  from  the  sentimental 
to  the  sublime. 

We  give  this  book  back  to  the  world  in  1833  as  it  was 
■written  in  1821,  because  we  feel  that  the  work,  ingenuous, 
if  nothing  else,  gives  a  tolerably  faithful  picture  of  the 
age  that  produced  it. 

Moreover,  the  author,  small  as  may  be  his  place  in  litera- 
ture, having  undergone  the  common  fate  of  every  writer, 
great  or  small,  and  seen  his  first  works  exalted  at  the  ex- 
pense of  the  latest,  and  having  heard  it  declared  that  he 
was  far  from  having  fulfilled  the  promise  of  his  youth, 
deems  it  his  duty,  not  to  oppose  to  a  criticism,  perhaps 
wise  and  just,  objections  which  might  seem  suspicious 
from  his  lips,  but  to  reprint  his  first  works  simply  and 
literally  as  he  wrote  them,  that  his  readers  may  decide, 
so  far  as  he  is  concerned,  whether  it  be  a  step  forward 
or  backward  that  divides  "  Hans  of  Iceland  "  from  "  NctL'e- 
Dame  de  Paris." 

Pabis.  May,  1838. 


PREFACE  TO  THE  FIRST  EDITION. 


TTHE  author  of  this  work,  from  the  day  he  wrote  its  first 
page  to  the  day  wheD  he  placed  the  happy  word 
"  End  "  at  the  bottom  of  the  last  page,  was  a  prey  to  the 
most  absurd  illusion.  Fancying  that  a  composition  in  four 
parts  deserved  some  consideration,  he  wasted  his  time  in 
seeking  a  fundamental  idea,  in  working  it  out,  well  or  ill, 
according  to  a  plan  good  or  bad,  as  the  case  may  be,  in 
arranging  scenes,  combining  effects,  studying  manners  and 
customs  as  best  he  might,  —  in  a  word,  he  took  his  work 
seriously. 

It  is  only  now,  when,  as  it  is  the  wont  of  authors  to  end 
where  the  reader  begins,  he  was  about  to  elaborate  a  long 
preface,  which  should  be  the  shield  of  his  work,  and  con- 
tain, together  with  a  statement  of  the  moral  and  literary 
principles  upon  which  his  conception  rests,  a  more  or  less 
hasty  sketch  of  the  various  historical  events  which  it  em- 
braces, and  a  more  or  less  clear  picture  of  the  country  in 
which  the  scene  is  laid,  —  it  is  only  now,  I  say,  that  he  per- 
ceives his  error ;  that  he  recognizes  all  the  insignificance  and 
all  the  frivolity  of  the  species  of  work  in  behalf  of  which  he 
has  so  solemnly  spoiled  so  much  paper,  and  that  he  feels 
how  strangely  he  was  misled  when  he  persuaded  himself 
that  this  romance  was  indeed,  up  to  a  certain  point,  a  liter- 
ary production,  and  that  these  four  fragments  formed  a 
book. 

He  therefore  sagely  resolved,  after  making  a  proper 
apology,  to  say  nothing  at  all   in  this  so-called  preface. 


10  PREFACE  TO  THE  FIRST  EDITION. 

which  the  publisher  will  consequently  be  careful  to  print 
in  large  letters.  He  will  not  tell  the  reader  his  name  or 
surname,  whether  he  be  old  or  young,  married  or  a  bachelor ; 
whether  he  has  written  elegies  or  fables,  odes  or  satires ; 
whether  he  means  to  write  tragedies,  dramas,  or  comedies  ; 
whether  he  be  the  patrician  member  of  some  great  literary 
association,  or  whether  he  holds  a  position  upon  some  news- 
paper, —  all  things,  however,  which  it  would  be  very  inter- 
esting to  know.  He  confines  himself  to  stating  that  the 
picturesque  part  of  his  story  has  been  the  object  of  his 
especial  care ;  that  K's,  Y's,  H's,  and  W's  abound  in  it,  al- 
though he  uses  these  romantic  letters  with  extreme  temper- 
ance, witness  the  historic  name  of  Guldenlew,  which  some 
chroniclers  write  Guldenloewe, — a  liberty  which  he  has 
not  ventured  to  allow  himself ;  that  there  will  also  be  found 
numerous  diphthongs  varied  with  much  taste  and  elegance  ; 
and  finally,  that  each  chapter  is  preceded  by  a  strange  and 
mysterious  motto,  which  adds  singularly  to  the  inter- 
est and  gives  more  expressiveness  to  each  part  of  the 
composition. 

jANUAaV,  1823. 


PREFACE  TO  THE  SECOND  EDITION. 


'X'HE  author  has  been  informed  that  a  brief  preface  or 
■*■  introduction  to  this  second  edition  of  his  book  is  ab- 
solutely essential.  In  vain  he  declared  that  the  four  or  five 
paragraphs  which  escorted  the  first  edition,  and  with  which 
the  publisher  persisted  in  disfiguring  it,  had  already  drawn 
down  upon  his  head  the  anathemas  of  one  of  the  most  dis- 
tinguished and  honorable  of  French  writers,*  who  accused 
him  of  assuming  the  sour  tones  of  the  illustrious  Jedediah 
Cleishbotham,  schoolmaster  and  sexton  of  the  parish  of 
Gaudercleugh ;  in  vain  he  alleged  that  this  brilliant  and 
sensible  critic,  from  dealing  severely  with  an  error,  would 
doubtless  become  merciless,  upon  a  repetition  of  the  same  mis- 
take, —  in  a  word,  he  presented  countless  equally  good  reasons 
for  declining  to  fall  into  the  trap ;  but  better  ones  must  have 
been  brought  to  bear  against  them,  since  he  is  now  writing 
a  second  preface,  after  so  bitterly  repenting  that  he  wrote 
the  first.  While  executing  this  bold  resolve,  his  first  thought 
was  to  open  the  second  edition  with  those  general  and  par- 
ticular views  on  the  subject  of  romance-writing  wdth  which 
be  dared  not  burden  the  first.  Lost  in  meditations  on  this 
literary  and  didactic  treatise,  he  was  still  a  prey  to  that 
strange  intoxication  of  composition,  that  brief  instant  when 
the  author,  feeling  that  he  is  about  to  grasp  an  ideal  per- 
fection which,  alas,  he  can  never  reach,  is  thrilled  with 
delight  at  his  task ;  he  was,  we  say,  enjoying  that  period  of 

»  M.  Charles  Nodier,  in  the  "  Quotidienne  "  for  March  12, 1823. 


12  PREPACE  TO  THE   SECOND  EDITION. 

mental  ecstasy  when  labor  is  a  delight,  when  the  secret  pos 
session  of  the  muse  seems  sweeter  than  the  dazzling  pursuit 
of  fame,  when  one  of  his  wisest  friends  waked  him  suddenly 
from  his  dream,  his  ecstasy,  his  intoxication,  by  assuring 
him  that  several  very  great,  popular,  and  influential  men  of 
letters  considered  the  dissertation  which  he  was  preparing 
utterly  flat,  insipid,  and  unnecessary ;  that  the  painful  apos- 
tleship  of  criticism  with  which  they  were  charged  in  various 
public  pages,  imposing  upon  them  the  mournful  duty  of  piti- 
lessly hunting  down  the  monster  of  "romanticism  "  and  bad 
taste,  they  were  even  then  busily  preparing  for  certain 
enlightened  and  impartial  journals  a  conscientious,  analyti- 
cal, and  spicy  criticism  of  the  aforesaid  forthcoming  disser- 
tation. Upon  hearing  this  terrible  news,  the  poor  author 
ohstupuit ;  steteruntque  comce,  et  vox  faucibus  hcesit,  —  that  is 
to  say,  nothing  remained  but  to  leave  in  the  limbo  whence 
he  was  about  to  rescue  it  the  essay,  "  virgin  and  yet  un- 
born," as  Jean  Jacques  Rousseau  has  it,  of  which  such  just 
and  such  severe  critics  had  fallen  foul.  His  friend  advised 
him  to  replace  it  by  a  few  simple  preliminary  remarks  from 
the  publishers,  as  he  could  very  properly  put  into  those 
gentlemen's  mouths  all  the  sweet  nothings  which  so  deli- 
cately tickle  an  author's  ear ;  nay,  he  even  offered  him 
certain  models,  taken  from  highly  successful  works,  some 
beginning  with  the  words,  "  The  immense  popular  success 
of  this  book,"  etc. ;  others  thus,  "  The  European  fame  which 
this  work  has  won,"  etc. ;  or,  "  It  is  now  superfluous  to  praise 
this  book,  since  popular  opinion  declares  that  no  praise  can 
equal  its  merit,"  etc.  Although  these  various  formulae, 
according  to  the  discreet  adviser,  were  not  without  their 
attested  virtues,  the  author  did  not  feel  sufficient  humility 
and  paternal  indifference  to  expose  his  work  to  the  disap* 
pointment  or  the  demands  of  the  reader  who  should  peruse 
these  magnificent  apologies,  nor  sufficient  effrontery  to  imi- 
tate those  rustic  mountebanks  who  attract  the  curious  pub* 


PREFACE  TO  THE  SECOND  EDITION.  13 

lie  by  displaying  a  painted  crocodile  upon  a  curtain,  behind 
which,  on  paying  their  fee,  they  find  nothing  but  a  lizard. 
He  therefore  rejected  the  idea  of  sounding  his  own  prais.e3 
through  the  obliging  lips  of  his  publishers.  His  friend 
then  suggested  that  he  should  put  into  the  mouth  of  his 
villanous  Icelandic  outlaw,  by  way  of  a  passport,  phrases 
suited  to  popularize  him  and  render  him  congenial  with  the 
age,  —  such  as  delicate  jests  directed  against  the  nobility, 
bitter  sarcasms  upon  the  clergy,  ingenious  invectives  against 
nuns,  monks,  and  other  monsters  of  the  social  order.  The 
author  asked  nothing  better ;  but  it  scarcely  seemed  to  him 
that  nobles  and  monks  had  any  very  direct  connection  with 
the  work  in  hand.  He  might,  it  is  true,  have  borrowed 
other  colors  from  the  same  palette,  and  thrown  together  a 
few  highly  philanthropic  pages,  in  which  —  always  keeping 
at  a  prudent  distance  from  the  dangerous  shoals  hidden  under 
the  waters  of  philosophy,  and  known  as  the  shoals  of  the 
Court  of  Misdemeanors  —  he  might  have  advanced  certain 
of  those  truths  discovered  by  the  wise  for  the  glory  of  man- 
kind and  the  consolation  of  the  dying ;  namely,  that  man 
is  but  a  brute,  that  the  soul  is  a  gas  of  greater  or  less  dens- 
ity, and  that  God  is  nothing ;  but  he  thought  these  incon- 
testable truths  very  trivial  and  very  hackneyed,  and  he 
could  scarcely  add  a  drop  to  the  deluge  of  reasonable  mo- 
rality, atheistic  religion,  maxims,  doctrines,  and  principles 
with  which  we  have  been  flooded  for  our  good  for  thirty 
years,  in  so  monstrous  a  fashion  that  we  might,  if  it  be  not 
irreverent,  apply  Regnier's  verses  on  a  shower,  — 

"  From  out  the  clouds  the  rains  in  such  vast  torrents  pour, 
That  thirsty  dogs  can  drink  and  not  their  foreheads  lower." 

Moreover,  these  lofty  themes  had  no  very  visible  con. 
nection  with  the  subject  of  his  story,  and  he  might  have 
been  puzzled  to  find  any  bond  of  union  leading  up  to 
it,   although  the   art  of   transitions  has  been   singularly 


14  PREFACE  TO  THE  SECOND  EDITION. 

simplified,  since  so  many  great  men  have  discovered  the 
secret  of  passing  from  a  stable  to  a  palace  direct,  and  of 
exchanging  without  incongruity  the  policeman's  cap  for 
the  civic  crown. 

Recognizing,  therefore,  that  neither  his  talent  nor  his 
learning,  "  neither  his  wings  nor  his  beak,"  as  the  ingenious 
Arab  poet  has  it,  could  furnish  him  with  a  preface  which 
would  interest  his  readers,  the  author  resolved  merely  to 
offer  them  a  serious  and  frank  account  of  the  improvements 
introduced  in  this  second  edition. 

He  must  first  inform  them  that  the  words  "  second  edi- 
tion "  are  incorrect,  and  that  the  term  "  first  edition  "  should 
really  be  applied  to  this  reprint,  inasmuch  as  the  four 
variously  sized  bundles  of  grayish  paper  blotted  with  black 
and  white,  which  the  indulgent  public  has  hitherto  kindly 
consented  to  consider  as  the  four  volumes  of  "  Hans  of 
Iceland,"  were  so  disfigured  with  typographic  errors  by  a 
barbarous  printer  that  the  wretched  author,  on  looking  over 
his  own  production,  altered  as  it  was  beyond  all  recognition, 
was  perpetually  subjected  to  the  torments  of  a  father  whose 
child  returns  to  him  mutilated  and  tattooed  by  the  hand  of 
an  Iroquois  from  Lake  Ontario. 

For  instance,  the  type  turned  a  "  lion's  "  voice  into  a 
"line,"  robbed  the  Dovrefield  Mountains  of  their  "peaks  " 
and  bestowed  upon  them  "feet,"  and  when  the  Norse 
fishers  hoped  to  moor  their  boat  in  various  "  creeks,"  the 
printer  drove  them  upon  "  bricks."  Not  to  weary  the 
reader,  the  author  will  pass  by  in  silence  all  the  outrages  of 
this  kind  which  his  wounded  memory  recalls,  — 

"  Manet  alto  in  pectore  vulnus." 

Suffice  it  to  say  that  there  is  no  grotesque  image,  no  strange 
meaning,  no  absurd  idea,  no  confused  figure,  no  burlesque 
hieroglyph,  which  the  sedulously  stupid  ignorance  of  this 
enigmatical  proof-reader  did  not  make  him  utter.    Alas  I 


PREFACE  TO  THE   SECOND  EDITION.  15 

every  one  who  ever  printed  a  dozen  lines,  were  it  only  an 
invitation  to  a  wedding  or  a  funeral,  will  feel  the  deep  bit- 
terness of  such  a  sorrow  ! 

The  proofs  of  this  reprint  have  accordingly  been  read 
with  sedulous  care ;  and  the  author  now  ventures  to  hope, 
in  which  he  is  sustained  by  one  or  two  close  friends,  that 
this  romance  redivivus  is  worthy  to  figure  among  those 
splendid  writings  before  which  "  the  eleven  stars  bow  low,' 
as  before  the  sun  and  moon."  * 

Should  journalists  accuse  him  of  making  no  corrections, 
he  will  take  the  liberty  of  sending  them  the  proof-sheets  of 
this  regenerate  work,  blackened  by  minute  scrutiny ;  for  it 
is  averred  that  there  is  more  than  one  doubting  Thomas 
among  them. 

The  kindly  reader  will  also  observe  that  several  dates 
have  been  corrected,  historical  notes  added,  one  or  two  chap- 
ters enriched  with  new  mottoes,  —  in  a  word,  he  will  find 
on  every  page  changes  whose  extreme  importance  is  to  be 
measured  only  by  that  of  the  entire  book. 

An  impertinent  adviser  desired  a  translation  in  foot-notes 
of  all  the  Latin  phrases  with  which  the  learned  Spiagudry 
sprinkles  the  book,  "  for  the  comprehension,"  adds  this  per- 
sonage, "of  those  masons,  tinkers,  or  hairdressers  who 
edit  certain  journals  wherein  '  Hans  of  Iceland '  may  chance 
to  be  reviewed."  The  author's  anger  at  such  insidious 
counsel  may  be  imagined.  He  instantly  begged  to  inform 
the  would-be  joker  that  all  journalists,  without  distinc- 
tion, are  mirrors  of  courtesy,  wisdom,  and  good  faith,  and 
requested  him  not  to  insult  him  by  believing  him  to  be 
one  of  those  ungrateful  citizens  who  are  ever  ready  to  ad- 
dress those  dictators  of  taste  and  genius  in  this  poor  verse 
of  an  old  poet,  — 

"  Keep  your  own  skins,  my  friends,  nor  other  folk  condemn,** 
^^  EoruL 


16  PREFACE  TO  THE  SECOND  EDITION. 

for  he  is  far  from  thinking  that  the  lion's  skin  is  not  the 
true  skin  of  those  popular  gentlemen. 

Still  another  friend  implored  him  —  for  he  must  conceal 
nothing  from  his  readers  —  to  put  his  name  on  the  titlepage 
of  this  story,  hitherto  the  neglected  child  of  an  unknown 
father.  It  must  be  owned  that  beyond  the  pleasure  of  see- 
ing the  half-dozen  capital  letters  which  spell  out  one's  name 
printed  in  fine  black  characters  upon  smooth  white  paper, 
there  is  also  a  certain  charm  in  displaying  it  in  solitary 
grandeur  upon  the  back  of  the  cover,  as  if  the  work  which 
it  adorns,  far  from  being  the  only  monument  of  the  author's 
genius,  were  but  one  of  the  columns  in  the  imposing  temple 
wherein  his  genius  is  some  day  to  spread  its  wings,  but  a 
slight  specimen  of  his  hidden  talent  and  his  unpublished 
glory.  It  proves  that  at  least  he  hopes  to  be  a  noted  and 
admired  writer  some  day.  To  triumph  over  this  fresh 
temptation,  the  author  was  forced  to  muster  all  his  fears 
lest  he  should  never  break  through  the  crowd  of  scribblers 
who,  even  though  they  waive  their  anonymity,  must  ever 
remain  unknown. 

As  for  the  hint  thrown  out  by  certain  amateurs  with  very 
delicate  ears  regarding  the  uncouth  harshness  of  his  Nor- 
wegian names,  he  considers  it  well  founded.  He  therefore 
proposes,  so  soon  as  he  shall  be  made  a  member  of  the  Eoyal 
Society  at  Stockholm  or  the  Bergen  Academy,  to  invite  the 
Norwegians  to  change  their  language,  inasmuch  as  the  hid- 
eous jargon  which  they  are  whimsical  enough  to  employ 
wounds  the  ears  of  Parisian  ladies,  and  their  outlandish 
names,  as  rugged  as  their  rocks,  produce  the  same  effect 
upon  the  sensitive  tongue  that  utters  them,  as  their  bear's 
grease  and  bark  bread  would  probably  have  upon  the  deli- 
cate nervous  filaments  of  our  palate. 

It  only  remains  for  him  to  thank  the  few  persons  who 
have  been  good  enough  .to  read  his  book  through,  as  is 
proved  by  the  really  tremendpus  success  which  it  has  won  j 


PREFACE  TO  THE  SECOND  EDITION.  17 

he  also  expresses  his  gratitude  to  those  of  his  fair  readers 
who,  he  is  assured,  have  formed  a  certain  ideal  of  the  au- 
thor of  "  Hans  of  Iceland "  from  his  book ;  he  is  vastly 
flattered  that  they  should  attribute  to  him  red  hair,  a 
shaggy  beard,  and  fierce  eyes ;  he  is  overcome  with  confu- 
sion that  they  should  condescend  to  do  him  the  honor  to 
suppose  that  he  never  cuts  his  nails  ;  but  he  entreats  them 
on  his  knees  to  rest  assured  that  he  never  carries  his  fero- 
city so  far  as  to  devour  little  children  alive ;  moreover,  all 
these  facts  will  become  fixed  when  his  renown  has  reached 
the  level  of  that  of  the  authors  of  "  Lolotte  and  Fanfan  " 
or  of  "  Monsieur  Botte,"  —  men  of  transcendent  genius, 
twins  alike  in  talent  and  in  taste,  aroades  ambo  ;  and  when 
his  portrait,  terribiles  visu  formce,  and  his  biography,  domes- 
tica  facta,  are  prefixed  to  his  works. 

He  was  about  to  close  this  long  epistle,  when  his  publisher, 
on  the  point  of  sending  the  book  to  the  reviews,  requested 
that  he  would  add  a  few  complimentary  notices  of  his  own 
work,  adding,  to  remove  all  the  author's  scruples,  that  "  his 
writing  should  not  be  the  means  of  compromising  him,  as 
he  would  copy  these  articles  himself,"  This  last  remark 
struck  the  author  as  extremely  touching.  Since  it  seems 
that  in  this  most  luminous  age  every  man  considers  it  his 
duty  to  enlighten  his  neighbor  as  to  his  own  qualities  and 
personal  perfections,  concerning  which  none  can  be  so  well 
informed  as  their  possessor,  as,  moreover,  this  last  tempta- 
tion is  a  strong  one,  the  author  thinks  it  his  duty,  in  case 
he  should  yield  to  it,  to  warn  the  public  not  to  believe  more 
than  half  of  what  the  press  may  say  of  his  work. 

APiUL,1828i 


VOL.  IX. —  2 


HANS   OF   ICELAND 


Schumacker  blessing  the  Young  Couple. 
Etching  by  W.  H.  W.  Bicknell. 


HANS  OF   ICELAND. 


I. 


Did  you  see  it  ?  did  you  see  it  ?  did  you  see  it  ?    Oh  !  did  you  see  it  ?— 
Who  saw  it  ?    "Who  did  see  it  ?    For  mercy's  sake,  who  saw  it  ? 

Stebke  :  Tristram  Shcmdy. 


T 


HAT'S  what  comes  of  falling  in  love,  Neighbor 


out  yonder  on  that  great  black  slab,  like  a  starfish  for- 
gotten by  the  tide,  if  she  had  kept  her  mind  on  mending 
her  father's  boat  and  patching  his  nets.  Saint  Usuph,  the 
fisher,  console  our  old  friend  in  his  affliction!" 

"  And  her  lover,"  added  a  shrill,  tremulous  voice,  *  Gill 
Stadt,  that  fine  young  man  beside  her,  would  not  be  there 
now,  if  instead  of  making  love  to  Guth  and  seeking  his 


24  HANS  OF  ICELAND. 

luck  in  those  accursed  Eoeraas  mines,  he  had  stayed  at 
home  and  rocked  his  little  brother's  cradle,  under  the 
smoky  cross-beams  of  his  mother's  hut." 

Neighbor  Niels,  whom  the  first  speaker  addressed,  inter- 
rupted :  "  Your  memory  is  growing  old  along  with  your- 
self. Mother  Oily.  Gill  never  had  a  brother,  and  that 
makes  poor  Widow  Stadt's  grief  all  the  harder  to  bear,  for 
her  home  is  now  left  utterly  desolate ;  if  she  looks  up  to 
heaven  for  consolation,  she  sees  nought  but  her  old  roof, 
where  still  hangs  the  cradle  of  her  son,  grown  to  be  a  tall 
young  man,  and  dead." 

"Poor  mother!"  replied  old  Oily,  "it  was  the  young 
man's  own  fault.  Why  should  he  go  to  Eoeraas  to  be  a 
miner  ? " 

"I  do  believe,"  said  Niels,  "that  those  infernal  mines 
rob  us  of  a  man  for  every  escalin's  ^  worth  of  copper  which 
we  get  out  of  them.     What  do  you  think.  Father  Braal  ?  * 

"  Miners  are  fools,"  replied  the  fisherman.  "  If  he  would 
live,  the  fish  should  not  leave  the  water.  Man  should  not 
enter  the  bowels  of  the  earth." 

"  But,"  asked  a  young  man  in  the  crowd,  "  how  if  Gill 
Stadt  had  to  work  in  the  mines  to  win  his  sweetheart  ? " 

"A  man  should  never  risk  his  life,"  interrupted  Oily, 
*f'  for  affections  which  are  far  from  being  worth  a  life,  or  fill- 
ing it.     A  pretty  wedding-bed  Gill  earned  for  his  Guth ! " 

"So  then  that  young  woman,"  inquired  a  curious  by- 
stander, "  drowned  herself  in  despair  at  the  death  of  this 
young  man?" 

1  A  small  coin  worth  twelve  and  a  half  cents.  The  name  is  still  in  use 
in  Louisiana. 


HANS  OF  ICELAND.  25 

"  Who  says  so  ? "  loudly  exclaimed  a  soldier,  pushing  his 
way  through  the  crowd.  "  That  young  girl,  whom  I  knew 
well,  was  indeed  engaged  to  marry  a  young  miner  who 
was  lately  crushed  by  falling  rocks  in  the  underground 
tunnels  of  Storwaadsgrube,  near  Eoeraas;  but  she  was 
also  the  sweetheart  of  one  of  my  mates,  and  as  she  was 
going  to  Munkholm  secretly,  day  before  yesterday,  to  cele- 
brate with  her  lover  the  death  of  her  betrothed,  her  boat 
capsized  on  a  reef,  and  she  was  drowned." 

A  confused  sound  of  voices  arose :  "  Impossible,  master 
soldier,"  cried  the  old  women.  The  young  ones  were  silent; 
and  Neighbor  Niels  maliciously  reminded  fisher  Braal  of 
his  serious  statement :  "  That 's  what  comes  of  falling  in 
love!" 

The  soldier  was  about  to  lose  his  temper  with  his  oppo- 
nents ;  he  had  already  called  them  "  old  witches  from  the 
cave  of  Quiragoth,"  and  they  were  not  disposed  to  bear  so 
grave  an  insult  patiently,  when  a  sharp  and  imperious 
voice,  crying  "  Silence,  silence,  you  old  fools  ! "  put  an  end 
to  the  dispute.  All  was  still,  as  when  the  sudden  crow  of 
a  cock  is  heard  amid  the  cackling  of  the  hens. 

Before  relating  the  rest  of  the  scene,  it  may  be  well  to 
describe  the  spot  where  it  occurred.  It  was  —  as  the  reader 
has  doubtless  guessed  —  one  of  those  gloomy  structures 
which  public  pity  and  social  forethought  devote  to  un- 
known corpses,  the  last  asylum  of  the  dead,  whose  Kves 
were  usually  sad  ones ;  where  the  careless  spectator,  the 
surly  or  kindly  observer  gather,  and  friends  often  meet 
tearful  relatives,  whom  long  and  unendurable  anxiety 
has  robbed  of  all  but  one  sad  hope.    At  the  period  now 


26  HANS  OF  ICELAND. 

remote,  and  in  the  uncivilized  region  to  which  I  have 
carried  my  reader,  there  had  as  yet  been  no  attempt,  as  in 
our  cities  of  gold  and  mud,  to  make  these  resting-places 
into  ingeniously  forbidding  or  elegantly  funereal  edifices. 
Daylight  did  not  fall  through  tomb-shaped  openings,  into 
artistically  sculptured  vaults,  upon  beds  which  seem  as  if 
the  guardian  of  the  place  were  anxious  to  leave  the  dead 
some  of  the  conveniences  of  life,  and  the  pillow  seems 
arranged  for  sleep.  If  the  keeper's  door  were  left  ajar,  the 
eye,  wearied  with  gazing  upon  hideous,  naked  corpses,  had 
not  as  now  the  pleasure  of  resting  upon  elegant  furniture 
and  happy  children.  Death  was  there  in  all  its  deformity, 
in  all  its  horror;  and  there  was  no  attempt  to  deck  its 
fleshless  skeleton  with  ribbons  and  gewgaws. 

The  room  in  which  our  actors  stood  was  spacious  and 
dark,  which  made  it  seem  still  larger ;  it  was  lighted  only 
by  a  broad,  low  door  opening  upon  the  port  of  Throndhjem, 
and  a  rough  hole  in  the  ceiling,  through  which  a  dull,  white 
light  fell,  mingled  with  rain,  hail,  or  snow,  according  to 
the  weather,  upon  the  corpses  lying  directly  under  it.  The 
room  was  divided  by  an  iron  railing,  breast-high,  running 
across  it  from  side  to  side.  The  public  entered  the  outer 
portion  through  the  low  door ;  in  the  inner  part  were  six 
long  black  granite  slabs,  arranged  abreast  and  parallel  to 
each  other.  A  small  side  door  served  to  admit  the  keeper 
and  his  assistant  to  either  section,  their  rooms  occupying 
the  rear  of  the  building,  close  to  the  water.  The  miner  and 
his  betrothed  occupied  two  granite  beds ;  decomposition 
had  already  begun  its  work  upon  the  young  woman's  body, 
showing  itself  in  large  blue  and  purple  spots  running  along 


HANS  OF  ICELAND.  27 

hep  limba  ou  the  line  of  the  blood-vessels.  Gill's  feai 
tures  were  stern  and  set;  but  his  body  was  so  horribly 
mutilated  that  it  was  impossible  to  judge  whether  his 
beauty  were  really  so  great  as  old  Oily  declared. 

It  was  before  these  disfigured  remains,  in  the  midst  of 
the  mute  crowd,  that  the  conversation  which  we  have 
faithfully  interpreted,  began. 

A  tall,  withered  old  man,  sitting  with  folded  arms  and 
bent  head  upon  a  broken  stool  in  the  darkest  corner  of 
the  room,  had  apparently  paid  no  heed  until  the  moment 
when  he  rose  suddenly,  exclaiming,  "  Silence,  silence,  you 
old  fools ! "  and  seized  the  soldier  by  the  arm. 

All  were  hushed ;  the  soldier  turned  and  broke  into  a 
burst  of  laughter  at  the  sight  of  his  strange  interrupter, 
whose  pale  face,  thin  greasy  locks,  long  fingers,  and  com- 
plete costume  of  reindeer  leather  amply  justified  this 
mirthful  reception.  But  a  clamor  arose  from  the  crowd 
of  women,  for  a  moment  confounded :  "  It  is  the  keeper 
of  the  Spladgest !  ^  —  That  infernal  doorkeeper  to  the  dead ! 
—  That  diabolical  Spiagudry  1  —  That  accursed  sorcerer ! " 

**  Silence,  you  old  fools,  silence !  If  this  be  the  witches* 
Sabbath,  hasten  away  and  find  your  broomsticks ;  if  you 
don't,  they'll  fly  off  without  you.  Let  this  worthy  de- 
scendant of  the  god  Thor  alone." 

Then  Spiagudry,  striving  to  assume  a  gracious  expres- 
sion, addressed  the  soldier:  "You  say,  my  good  fellow, 
that  this  wretched  woman  — " 

"  Old  rascal ! "  muttered  Oily ;  "  yes,  we  are  all  'wretched 
women,*  to  him,  because  our  bodies,  if  they  fall  into  hia 

1  Name  of  the  Throndhjem  morgae. 


28  HANS  OF  ICELAND. 

claws,  only  bring  him  thirty  escalins'  reward,  while  he  gets 
forty  for  the  paltry  carcass  of  a  man." 

"  Silence,  old  women ! "  repeated  Spiagudry.  "  In  truth, 
these  daughters  of  the  Devil  are  like  their  kettles ;  when 
they  wax  warm,  they  must  needs  sing.  Tell  me,  my 
vahant  king  of  the  sword,  your  comrade,  this  Guth's 
lover,  will  doubtless  kill  himself  in  despair  at  her  loss, 
won't  he  ? " 

Here  burst  forth  the  long-repressed  storm.  "Do  you 
hear  the  miscreant,  —  the  old  Pagan  I"  cried  twenty  shrill, 
discordant  voices.  "He  would  fain  see  one  less  man 
living,  for  the  sake  of  the  forty  escalins  that  a  dead  body 
brings  him." 

"  And  what  if  I  would  ? "  replied  the  keeper  of  the  Splad- 
gest.  "Does  n't  our  gracious  king  and  master,  Christian  V., 
—  may  Saint  Hospitius  bless  him  1  —  declare  himself  the 
natural  guardian  of  all  miners,  so  that  when  they  die  he 
may  enrich  his  royal  treasury  with  their  paltry  leavings  ? " 

"  You  honor  the  king,"  answered  fisher  Braal,  "  by  com- 
paring the  royal  treasury  to  the  strong-box  of  your  charnel- 
house,  and  him  to  yourself.  Neighbor  Spiagudry." 

"  Neighbor,  indeed ! "  said  the  keeper,  shocked  by  such 
familiarity.  "  Your  neighbor !  say  rather  your  host ! 
since  it  may  easily  chance  some  day,  my  dear  boat- 
dweller,  that  I  shall  have  to  lend  you  one  of  my  six  stone 
beds  for  a  week.  Besides,"  he  added,  with  a  laugh,  "  if  I 
spoke  of  that  soldier's  death,  it  was  merely  from  a  desire 
to  see  the  perpetuation  of  the  custom  of  suicide  for  the 
sake  of  those  great  and  tragic  passions  which  ladies  ara 
wont  to  inspire." 


HANS  OF  ICELAND.  29 

•'  Well,  you  tall  corpse  and  keeper  of  corpses,"  said  the 
soldier,  "  what  are  you  after,  with  your  amiable  grimace, 
which  looks  so  much  like  the  last  smile  of  a  man  who  has 
been  hanged  ? " 

"  Capital,  my  valiant  fellow  ! "  replied  Spiagudry.  "  I 
always  felt  that  there  was  more  wit  beneath  the  helmet 
of  Constable  Thurn,  who  conquered  the  Devil  with 
his  sword  and  his  tongue,  than  under  the  mitre  of 
Bishop  Isleif,  who  wrote  the  history  of  Iceland,  or  the 
square  cap  of  Professor  Shoenning,  who  described  our 
cathedral." 

"  In  that  case,  if  you  wiU  take  my  advice,  my  old  bag 
of  leather,  you  will  give  up  the  revenues  of  the  charnel- 
house,  and  go  and  sell  yourself  to  the  viceroy's  museum  of 
curiosities  at  Bergen.  I  swear  to  you,  by  Belphegor,  that 
they  pay  their  weight  in  gold  there  for  rare  beasts ;  but 
say,  what  do  you  want  with  me  ? " 

"  When  the  bodies  brought  here  are  found  in  the  water, 
we  have  to  give  half  the  reward  to  the  fisherman.  I  was 
going  to  ask  you,  therefore,  illustrious  heir  to  Constable 
Thurn,  if  you  would  persuade  your  unfortunate  comrade 
not  to  drown  himself,  but  to  choose  some  other  mode  of 
death;  it  can't  matter  much  to  him,  and  he  would  not 
wish  to  wrong  the  unhappy  Christian  who  must  entertain 
his  corpse,  if  the  loss  of  Guth  should  really  drive  him  to 
that  act  of  despair." 

"  You  are  quite  mistaken,  my  charitable  and  hospitable 
friend.  My  comrade  will  not  have  the  pleasure  of  occu- 
pying an  apartment  in  your  tempting  tavern  with  its  six 
beds.    Don't  you  suppose  he  has  already  consoled  himself 


30  HANS  OF  ICELAND. 

with  another  Valkyria  for  the  death  of  that  girl  ?  He 
had  long  been  tired  of  your  Guth,  by  my  beard ! " 

At  these  words,  the  storm,  which  Spiagudry  had  for  a 
moment  drawn  upon  his  own  head,  again  burst  more 
furiously  than  ever  upon  the  luckless  soldier. 

"  What,  miserable  scamp ! "  shrieked  the  old  women ; 
"  is  that  the  way  you  forget  us  ?  And  yet  we  love  such 
good-for-nothings ! " 

The  young  girls  still  kept  silence.  Some  of  them  even 
thought  —  greatly  against  their  will,  of  course  —  that  this 
graceless  fellow  was  very  good-looking. 

"  Oh,  ho ! "  said  the  soldier ;  "  has  the  witches'  Sabbath 
come  round  again  ?  Beelzebub's  punishment  is  frightful 
indeed  if  he  be  condemned  to  hear  such  choruses  once  a 
week!" 

No  one  can  say  how  this  fresh  squall  would  have 
ended,  if  general  attention  had  not  at  this  moment 
been  utterly  absorbed  by  a  noise  from  without.  The 
uproar  increased  steadily,  and  presently  a  swarm  of  little 
ragged  boys  entered  the  Spladgest,  tumultuously  shout- 
ing and  crowding  about  a  covered  bier  carried  by  two 
men. 

"  Where  does  that  come  from  ? "  the  keeper  asked  the 
bearers. 

"  From  Urchtal  Sands." 

"  Oglypiglap  ! "  shouted  Spiagudry. 

One  of  the  side  doors  opened,  a  little  man  of  Lappish 
race,  dressed  in  leather,  entered,  and  signed  to  the  bearers 
to  follow  him.  Spiagudry  accompanied  them,  and  the  door 
closed  before  the  curious  crowd  had  time  to  guess,  by  the 


HANS  OF  ICELAND.  81 

length  of  the  body  on  the  bier,  whether  it  were  a  man  oi 
a  woman. 

This  subject  still  occupied  all  their  thoughts,  when 
Spiagudry  and  his  assistant  reappeared  in  the  second  com- 
partment, carrying  the  corpse  of  a  man,  which  they  placed 
upon  one  of  the  granite  couches. 

"  It 's  a  long  time  since  I  've  handled  such  handsome 
clothes,"  said  Oglypiglap;  then,  shaking  his  head  and 
standing  on  tiptoe,  he  hung  above  the  dead  man  the  ele- 
gant uniform  of  a  captain  in  the  army.  The  corpse's  head 
was  disfigured,  and  his  limbs  were  covered  with  blood; 
the  keeper  sprinkled  the  body  several  times  from  an  old 
broken  pail. 

"  By  Saint  Beelzebub  1 "  cried  the  soldier,  "  it  is  an  offi- 
cer of  my  regiment.  Let  me  see ;  can  it  be  Captain  Bol- 
lar,  —  from  grief  at  his  uncle's  death  ?  Bah !  he  is  the 
heir.  Baron  Eandmer  ?  He  lost  his  estate  at  cards  yes- 
terday, but  he  will  win  it  back  to-morrow,  with  his  adver- 
sary's castle.  Can  it  be  Captain  Lory,  whose  dog  was 
drowned,  or  Paymaster  Stunck,  whose  wife  was  unfaithful 
to  him  ?  But,  really,  I  don't  see  why  he  should  blow  out 
his  brains  for  that ! " 

The  crowd  steadily  increased.  Just  at  this  instant,  a 
young  man  who  was  crossing  the  wharf,  seeing  the  mob 
of  people,  dismounted  from  his  horse,  handed  the  bridle  to 
the  servant  behind  him,  and  entered  the  Spladgest.  He 
wore  a  simple  travelling  dress,  was  armed  with  a  sword, 
and  wrapped  in  a  large  green  cloak ;  a  black  plume,  fas- 
tened to  his  hat  by  a  diamond  buckle,  fell  over  his  noble 
face  and  waved  to  and  fro  upon  his  lofty  brow,  shaded  by 


32  HANS  OF  ICELAND. 

chestnut  hair;  his  boots  and  spurs,  soiled  with  mud, 
showed  that  he  had  come  a  long  distance. 

As  he  entered,  a  short,  thick-set  man,  also  wrapped  in 
a  cloak  and  hiding  his  hands  in  huge  gloves,  replied  to 
the  soldier. 

"  And  who  told  you  that  he  killed  himself  ?  That  man 
no  more  committed  suicide,  I  *11  be  bound,  than  the  roof 
of  your  cathedral  set  itself  on  fire." 

As  the  double-edged  sword  makes  two  wounds,  this 
phrase  gave  birth  to  two  answers. 

"  Our  cathedral ! "  said  Niels  ;  "  it  is  covered  with  copper 
now.  It  was  that  miserable  Hans  who  set  it  on  fire  to 
make  work  for  the  miners,  one  of  whom  was  his  favorite 
Gill  Stadt,  whom  you  see  lying  yonder." 

"  What  the  devil !  "  cried  the  soldier,  in  his  turn ;  "  do 
you  dare  tell  me,  the  second  musketeer  in  the  Munkholm 
garrison,  that  that  man  did  not  blow  out  his  brains ! " 

"  He  was  murdered,"  coldly  replied  the  little  fellow. 

"  Just  listen  to  the  oracle  !  Go  along  with  you.  Your 
little  gray  eyes  can  see  no  better  than  your  hands  do  under 
the  big  gloves  with  which  you  cover  them  in  the  middle 
of  the  summer." 

The  little  man's  eyes  flashed. 

"  Soldier,  pray  to  your  patron  saint  that  these  hands 
may  never  leave  their  mark  upon  your  face  ! " 

"  Oh  !  —  enough  of  this  !  "  cried  the  soldier,  in  a  rage. 
Then,  pausing  suddenly,  he  said :  "  No,  there  must  be  no 
word  of  a  duel  before  dead  men." 

The  little  man  growled  a  few  words  in  a  foreign  tongue, 
and  vanished. 


HANS  OF  ICELAND.  83 

A  voice  cried  out :  "  He  was  found  on  Urchtal 
Sands." 

"  On  Urchtal  Sands  ? "  said  the  soldier ;  "  Captain  Dis- 
polsen  was  to  land  there  this  morning,  from  Copenhagen,'* 

"Captain  Dispolsen  has  not  yet  reached  Munkholm," 
said  another  voice. 

"  They  say  that  Hans  of  Iceland  haunts  those  sands  just 
now,"  added  a  fourth. 

"  Then  it  is  possible  that  this  may  be  the  captain,"  said 
the  soldier,  "  if  Hans  was  the  murderer ;  for  we  all  know 
that  the  Icelander  murders  in  so  devilish  a  fashion  that 
his  victims  often  seem  to  be  suicides." 

"  What  sort  of  man  is  this  Hans  ?  "  asked  some  ona 

"  He  is  a  giant,"  said  one. 

"  He  is  a  dwarf,"  said  another, 

"  Has  nobody  seen  him,  then  ? "  put  in  a  voice. 

"  Those  who  see  him  for  the  first  time,  see  him  for  the 
last  time  also." 

"  Hush !  "  said  old  Oily ;  "  they  say  there  are  but  three 
persons  who  ever  exchanged  human  speech  with  him, — 
that  reprobate  of  a  Spiagudry,  Widow  Stadt,  and  —  but 
he  had  a  sad  life  and  a  sad  death  —  that  poor  Gill,  who 
lies  yonder.     Hush ! " 

"  Hush ! "  was  repeated  on  all  sides. 

''  Now,"  suddenly  exclaimed  the  soldier,  "  I  am  sure 
that  this  is  indeed  Captain  Dispolsen.  I  recognize  the 
steel  chain  which  our  prisoner,  old  Schumacker,  gave  him 
when  he  went  away." 

The  young  man  with  the  black  plume  broke  the  silence 
abruptly  :  "  Are  you  sure  it  is  Captain  Dispolsen  ?  ** 


34  HANS  OF  ICELAND. 

"  Sure,  by  the  merits  of  Saint  Beelzebub  1  *  said  the 
soldier. 

The  young  man  left  the  room  hurriedly. 

"  Get  me  a  boat  for  Munkholm,"  he  said  to  his  servant. 

"  But,  the  general,  sir  ? " 

"  Take  the  horses  to  him.  I  will  follow  to-morrow.  Am 
I  my  own  master,  or  not  ?  Come,  night  is  falling,  and  I 
am  in  haste.    A  boat  I " 

The  servant  obeyed,  and  for  some  time  stood  watching 
his  young  master  as  he  moved  away  from  the  shore. 


n. 


I  will  sit  by  you  while  you  tell  me  some  pleasant  tale  to  pass  away 
the  time.  —  Maturin:  Bertram. 


THE  reader  is  already  aware  that  we  are  at  Thrond- 
hjem,  one  of  the  four  chief  cities  ia  Norway, 
although  not  the  residence  of  the  viceroy.  At  the  date 
of  this  story  (1699)  the  kingdom  of  Norway  was  still 
united  to  Denmark,  and  governed  by  a  viceroy  whose  seat 
was  in  Bergen,  a  larger,  handsomer,  and  more  southerly 
town  than  Throndhjem,  in  spite  of  the  disagreeable  nick- 
name attached  to  it  by  the  famous  Admiral  Tromp. 

Throndhjem  offers  a  pleasant  prospect  as  you  approach  it 
by  the  fjord  to  which  the  city  gives  its  name.  The  harbor 
is  quite  large,  although  it  cannot  be  entered  easily  in  all 
weathers.  At  this  time  it  resembled  nothing  so  much  as  a 
long  canal,  lined  on  the  right  by  Danish  and  Norwegian 


36  HANS  OF  ICELAND. 

ships,  and  on  the  left  by  foreign  vessels,  as  prescribed  by- 
law. In  the  background  lay  the  town,  situated  on  a  well- 
cultivated  plain,  and  crowned  by  the  lofty  spires  of  the 
cathedral.  This  church  —  one  of  the  finest  pieces  of 
Gothic  architecture,  as  we  may  judge  from  Professor 
Shoenning's  book,  so  learnedly  quoted  by  Spiagudry,  which' 
describes  it  as  it  was  before  repeated  fires  had  laid  it 
waste  —  bore  upon  its  highest  pinnacle  the  episcopal 
cross,  the  distinctive  sign  that  it  was  the  cathedral  of  the 
Lutheran  bishop  of  Throndhjem,  Beyond  the  town,  in 
the  blue  distance,  were  the  slender  white  peaks  of  the 
Kiolen  Mountains,  like  the  sharp-pointed  ornaments  on 
an  antique  crown. 

In  the  middle  of  the  harbor,  within  cannon-shot  of  the 
shore,  upon  a  mass  of  rocks  lashed  by  the  waves,  rose  the 
lonely  fortress  of  Munkholm,  a  gloomy  prison  which  then 
held  a  prisoner  celebrated  for  the  splendor  of  his  long 
prosperity  and  for  his  sudden  disgrace. 

Schumacker,  born  in  an  obscure  station,  was  loaded 
with  favors  by  his  master,  then  hurled  from  the  chair  of 
the  Lord  High  Chancellor  of  Denmark  and  Norway  to  the 
traitor's  bench,  dragged  to  the  scaffold,  and  thence  by 
royal  clemency  cast  into  a  lonely  dungeon  at  the  extreme 
end  of  the  two  kingdoms.  His  creatures  had  overthrown 
him,  but  gave  him  no  right  to  inveigh  against  their  in- 
gratitude. How  could  he  complain  if  the  steps  gave 
way  beneath  him,  which  he  had  built  so  high  for  his  own 
aggrandizement  only  ? 

The  founder  of  the  Danish  nobility,  from  the  depth  of 
his  exile,  saw  the  grandees  whom  he  had  created  share 


HANS  OF  ICELAND.  37 

his  own  dignities  between  them.  Count  d'Ahlefeld,  his 
mortal  enemy,  succeeded  him  as  chancellor;  General 
Arensdorf,  as  earl-marshal,  distributed  military  titles,  and 
Bishop  SpoUyson  took  the  position  of  inspector  of  uni- 
versities. The  only  one  of  his  foes  who  did  not  owe  his 
rise  to  him  was  Count  Ulric  Frederic  Guldenlew,  natural 
son  of  Kling  Frederic  III.,  and  now  viceroy  of  Norway. 
He  was  the  most  generous  of  all 

Toward  the  sombre  rock  of  Munkholm  the  boat  of  the 
youth  with  the  black  plume  now  slowly  moved.  The  sun 
sank  rapidly  behind  the  lonely  fortress,  whose  walls  cut 
off  its  last  beams,  already  so  horizontal  that  the  peasant 
on  the  distant  eastern  hills  of  Larsynn  might  see  beside 
him  on  the  heather  the  faint  shadow  of  the  sentinel  keep* 
ing  his  watch  on  Munkholm's  highest  tower. 


III. 


Ah !  my  heart  could  receive  no  more  painful  wound !  .  .  .  A  young 
man  destitute  of  morals.  ...  He  dared  gaze  at  her !  His  glance  soiled 
her  purity.     Claudia  1     The  mere  thought  drives  me  mad.  —  Lessing. 

"   A  NDEEW,  go  and  order  them  to  ring  the  curfew  bell 

-^"^  in  half  an  hour.  Let  Sorsyll  relieve  Duckness  at 
the  portcullis,  and  Malvidius  keep  watch  on  the  platform 
of  the  great  tower.  Let  a  careful  lookout  be  kept  in  the 
direction  of  the  Lion  of  Schleswig  donjon.  Do  not  forget 
to  fire  the  cannon  at  seven  o'clock,  as  a  signal  to  lift  the 
harbor  chain.  But  no,  we  must  wait  a  little  for  Captain 
Dispolsen ;  better  light  the  signals  instead,  and  see  if  the 
Walderhog  beacon  is  lighted,  as  I  ordered  to-day.  Be 
sure  to  keep  refreshments  ready  for  the  captain.  And,  I 
forgot,  —  give  Toric-Belfast,  the  second  musketeer  of  the 
regiment,  two  days'  arrest ;  he  has  been  absent  all  day." 

So  said  the  sergeant-at-arms  beneath  the  black  and 
smoky  roof  of  the  Munkholm  guard-house,  in  the  low 
tower  over  the  outer  castle  gate. 

The  soldiers  addressed  left  their  cards  or  bed  to  carry 
out  his  orders ;  then  sUence  was  restored.  At  this  mo- 
ment the  measured  beat  of  oars  was  heard  outside. 

"  That  must  be  Captain  Dispolsen  at  last ! "  said  the 
sergeant,  opening  the  tiny  grated  window  which  looked 
Dut  upon  the  gulf. 


HAIJS  OF  ICELAND.  39 

A  boat  was  just  landing  at  the  foot  of  the  iron  gate. 

"  Who  goes  there  ? "  cried  the  sergeant  in  hoarse  tones. 

"  Open  ! "  was  the  answer ;  "  peace  and  safety." 

"  There  is  no  admittance  here.     Have  you  a  passport  ?  " 

"Yes." 

"  I  must  make  sure  of  that.  If  you  lie,  by  the  merits  of 
my  patron  saint,  you  shall  taste  the  waters  of  the  gulf ! " 
Then,  closing  the  lattice  and  turning  away,  he  added  :  "  It 
is  not  the  captain  yet." 

A  light  shone  behind  the  iron  gate.  The  rusty  bolts 
creaked,  the  grating  rose,  the  gate  opened,  and  the  ser- 
geant examined  a  parchment  handed  him  by  the  new- 
comer. 

"  Pass  in,"  said  he.  "  But  stay,"  he  added  hastily,  "  leave 
your  hat-buckle  outside.  No  one  is  allowed  to  enter  the 
prisons  of  the  State  wearing  jewels.  The  order  declares 
that  '  the  king  and  the  members  of  the  royal  family,  the 
viceroy  and  members  of  the  vice-regal  family,  the  bishop, 
and  the  officers  of  the  garrison,  are  alone  excepted,'  You 
come  under  none  of  these  heads,  do  you  ? " 

The  young  man,  without  reply,  removed  the  forbidden 
ornament,  and  flung  it  to  the  fisherman  who  brought 
him  thither,  in  payment  of  his  services;  the  latter,  fear- 
ing lest  he  might  repent  his  generosity,  made  haste  to 
put  a  broad  expanse  of  sea  between  the  benefactor  and 
his  benefit, 

Wliile  the  sergeant,  grumbling  at  the  chancellor's  im- 
prudence in  being  so  prodigal  with  his  passes,  replaced  the 
clumsy  bars,  and  while  the  lingering  sound  of  his  heavy 
boots  still  echoed  on  the  stairs  leading  to  the  guard-house, 


40  HANS  OF  ICELAND. 

the  young  man,  throwing  his  mantle  over  his  shoulder, 
hurriedly  crossed  the  dark  vault  of  the  low  tower,  the  long 
parade-ground,  and  the  ordnance-room,  where  lay  a  few 
old  dismantled  culverins,  still  to  be  seen  in  the  Copen- 
hagen museum,  all  nearer  approach  to  which  was  forbidden 
by  the  warning  cry  of  a  sentinel.  He  reached  the  great 
portcullis,  which  was  raised  on  sight  of  his  parchment. 
Thence,  followed  by  a  soldier,  he  crossed  diagonally,  with- 
out hesitation,  and  like  one  familiar  with  the  place,  one  of 
the  four  square  courts  which  skirt  the  great  circular  yard, 
in  whose  midst  rose  the  huge  round  rock  upon  which  stood 
the  donjon,  called  the  castle  of  the  Lion  of  Schleswig, 
from  the  forced  sojourn  there  of  Jotham  the  Lion,  Duke  of 
Schleswig,  held  captive  by  his  brother,  Kolf  the  Dwarf. 

It  is  not  our  purpose  to  give  a  description  of  Munk- 
holm  keep,  the  more  so  that  the  reader,  confined  in  a 
State  prison,  might  fear  that  he  could  not  escape  through 
the  garden.  He  would  be  mistaken ;  for  the  castle  of  the 
Lion  of  Schleswig,  meant  for  prisoners  of  distinction  only, 
among  other  conveniences  affords  them  the  pleasure  of  a 
walk  in  a  sort  of  wild  garden  of  considerable  extent,  where 
clumps  of  holly,  a  few  ancient  yews,  and  some  dark  pines 
grow  among  the  rocks  around  the  lofty  prison,  inside  an 
enclosure  of  thick  walls  and  huge  towers. 

Eeaching  the  foot  of  the  round  rock,  the  young  man 
climbed  the  rude  winding  steps  which  lead  to  the  foot  of 
one  of  the  towers  of  the  enclosure,  having  a  postern  below, 
which  served  as  the  entrance  to  the  keep.  Here  he  blew  a 
loud  blast  on  a  copper  horn  handed  to  him  by  the  warder 
of  the  great  portcullis.     "  Come  in,  come  in  I "  eagerly  ex- 


the  grea^. 
;hment. 


"He  blew  a  bud  blast  on  a  bom." 
Photo-Etdiing.  —  From  drawing  by  Demarest. 


!:  pines 


:^HT> 


tvihi{,f^'iL,Kiht<fi%  vjtj.m 


HANS  OF  ICELAND.  41 

claimed  a  voice  from  within ;  "  it  must  be  that  confounded 
captain  1 " 

As  the  postern  swung  open,  the  new-comer  saw,  in  a 
dimly  lighted  Gothic  apartment,  a  young  officer  stretched 
carelessly  upon  a  pile  of  cloaks  and  reindeer-skins,  beside 
one  of  the  three-beaked  lamps  which  our  ancestors  used 
to  hang  from  the  rose-work  of  their  ceilings,  and  which  at 
this  moment  stood  upon  the  ground.  The  elegance  and 
indeed  excessive  luxury  of  his  dress  was  in  strong  contrast 
with  the  bare  walls  and  rude  furniture ;  he  held  a  book, 
and  turned  slightly  toward  the  new-comer. 

"  Is  it  you,  Captain  ?  How  are  you.  Captain  ?  You  little 
suspected  that  you  were  keeping  a  man  waiting  who  has 
not  the  pleasure  of  your  acquaintance ;  but  our  acquaint- 
ance will  soon  be  made,  will  it  not  ?  Begin  by  receiving 
my  commiseration  upon  your  return  to  this  venerable  cas- 
tle. Short  as  my  stay  here  may  be,  I  shall  soon  be  about 
as  gay  as  the  owl  nailed  at  donjon  doors  to  serve  as  scare- 
crow, and  when  I  return  to  Copenhagen,  to  my  sister's 
wedding  feast,  the  deuce  take  me  if  four  women  out  of  a 
hundred  will  know  me !  Tell  me,  are  the  knots  of  pink  rib- 
bon at  the  hem  of  my  doublet  still  in  fashion  ?  Has  any 
one  translated  a  new  novel  by  that  Frenchwoman,  Made- 
moiselle Scuddry  ?  I  have  '  Clelia ; '  I  suppose  people  are 
still  reading  it  in  Copenhagen.  It  is  my  code  of  gallantry, 
now  that  I  am  forced  to  sigh  remote  from  so  many  bright 
eyes ;  for,  bright  as  they  are,  the  eyes  of  our  young  pris- 
oner —  you  know  who  I  mean  —  have  never  a  message  foi 
me.  Ah !  were  it  not  for  my  father's  orders  I  ...  I  must 
tell  you  in  confidence,  Captain,  that  my  father,  —  but  don't 


42  HANS  OF  ICELAND. 

mention  it, — charged  me  to — you  understand  me — Schu- 
macker's  daughter.  But  I  have  my  labor  for  my  pains; 
that  pretty  statue  is  not  a  woman ;  she  weeps  all  day  long 
and  never  looks  at  me." 

The  young  man,  unable  thus  far  to  interrupt  the 
officer's  extreme  volubility,  uttered  an  exclamation  of 
surprise :  — 

"  What !  What  did  you  say  ?  Charged  you  to  seduce 
the  daughter  of  that  unfortunate  Schumacker  I " 

"  Seduce  ?  Well,  so  be  it,  if  that  is  the  name  you  give  it 
now  in  Copenhagen ;  but  I  defy  the  Devil  himself  to  suc- 
ceed. Day  before  yesterday,  being  on  duty,  I  put  on  for 
her  express  benefit  a  superb  French  ruff  sent  direct  from 
Paris.  Would  you  believe  that  she  never  even  raised  her 
eyes  to  look  at  me,  although  I  passed  through  her  room 
three  or  four  times  clinking  ray  new  spurs,  whose  rowels 
are  no  bigger  than  a  Lombardy  ducat  ?  That 's  the  newest 
fashion,  is  n't  it  ? " 

"  Heavens !  Heavens ! "  said  the  young  man,  striking  his 
forehead ;   "  but  this  confounds  me ! " 

"  I  thought  it  would ! "  rejoined  the  officer,  mistaking 
the  meaning  of  the  remark.  "  Not  to  take  the  least  notice 
of  me  J    It  is  incredible,  and  yet  it  is  true." 

The  young  man  strode  up  and  down  the  room  in  violent 
excitement. 

"  Won't  you  take  some  refreshment,  Captain  Dispolsen  ?  '* 
cried  the  officer. 

The  young  man  started. 

"  I  am  not  Captain  Dispolsen.** 

*'  What ! "  said  the  officer  angrily,  sitting  up  as  he  spoke ; 


HANS  OF   ICELAND  45 

"and  pray  who  are  you,  then,  that  venture  to  introduce 
yourself  here  at  this  hour?" 

The  young  man  displayed  his  papers. 

"I  wish  to  see  Count  Griffenfeld,  —  I  would  say,  your 
prisoner." 

"  The  Count !  the  Count  I "  muttered  the  officer  in  some 
displeasure.  "  But,  to  be  sure,  this  paper  is  in  order ;  here 
is  the  signature  of  Vice-Chancellor  Grummond  de  Knud  i 
'Admit  the  bearer  to  visit  all  the  royal  prisons  at  any 
hour  and  at  any  time.'  Grummond  de  Knud  is  brother 
to  old  General  Levin  de  Knud,  who  is  in  command  at 
Throndhjem,  and  you  must  know  that  this  old  general  had 
the  bringing  up  of  my  future  brother-in-law." 

"Thanks  for  these  family  details.  Lieutenant.  Don't 
you  think  you  have  told  mo  enough  of  them  ? " 

"  The  impertinent  fellow  is  right,"  said  the  lieutenant, 
biting  his  lips.  "  Hullo,  there,  officer,  officer  of  the  tower ! 
Escort  this  stranger  to  Schumacker,  and  do  not  scold  if  I 
have  taken  down  your  lamp  with  three  beaks  and  but  one 
wick.  I  was  curious  to  examine  an  article  which  is  doubt- 
less the  work  of  Sciold  the  Pagan  orHavar  the  giant-killer; 
and  besides  it  is  no  longer  the  fashion  to  hang  anything 
but  crystal  chandeliers  from  the  ceiling." 

"With  these  words,  as  the  young  man  and  his  escort 
crossed  the  deserted  donjon  garden,  the  martyr  to  fashion 
resumed  the  thread  of  the  love  adventures  of  the  Amazo« 
nian  Clelia  and  Horatius  the  One-eyed. 


IV. 


Benvolio,  Where  the  devil  should  thia  Eomeo  be  ?  Came  he  not  home 
to-night  ? 

Mercutio.   Not  to  his  father's  ;   I  spoke  with  his  man. 

Shakespeare  :  Romeo  arid  Juliet. 

A  MAN  and  two  horses  entered  the  courtyard  of  the 
palace  of  the  governor  of  Throndhjem.  The  horse- 
man dismounted,  shaking  his  head  with  a  discontented  air. 
He  was  about  to  lead  the  two  animals  to  the  stable,  when 
his  arm  was  seized,  and  a  voice  cried :  "  How  I  You  here 
alone,  Poel  1     And  your  master, —  where  is  your  master  ? " 

It  was  old  General  Levin  de  Knud,  who,  seeing  from  his 
window  the  young  man's  servant  and  the  empty  saddle, 
descended  quickly,  and  fastened  upon  the  groom  a  gaze 
which  betrayed  even  more  alarm  than  his  question. 

"Your  Excellency,"  said  Poel,  with  a  low  bow,  "my 
master  has  left  Throndhjem." 

"  What !  has  he  been  here,  and  gone  again  without  see- 
ing his  general,  without  greeting  his  old  friend  I  And  how 
long  since  ? " 

"  He  arrived  this  evening  and  left  this  evening.** 

"This  evening, — this  very  evening  I  But  where  did 
he  stay  ?    Where  has  he  gone  ?  " 

"He  stopped  at  the  Spladgest,  and  has  embarked  for 
Munkholm." 


HANS  OF  ICELAND.  45 

•  Ah  !  I  supposed  he  was  at  the  antipodes.  But  what  is 
his  business  at  that  castle  ?  What  took  him  to  the  Splad- 
gest  ?  Just  like  my  knight-errant.  After  all,  I  am  rather 
to  blame,  for  why  did  I  give  him  such  a  bringing  up  ?  I 
wanted  him  to  be  free  in  spite  of  his  rank." 

"  Therefore  he  is  no  slave  to  etiquette,"  said  Poel. 

**  No ;  but  he  is  to  his  own  caprice.  Well,  he  will  doubt- 
less return.  Eest  and  refresh  yourself,  Poel.  Tell  me," 
and  the  general's  face  took  on  an  expression  of  solicitude, 
"tell  me,  Poel,  have  you  been  doing  much  running  up 
and  down  ? " 

**  General,  we  came  here  direct  from  Bergen.  My  master 
was  melancholy." 

"  Melancholy !  Why,  what  can  have  occurred  between 
him  and  his  father  ?     Is  he  averse  to  this  marriage  ?  " 

"  I  do  not  know.  But  they  say  that  his  Serene  High- 
ness insists  upon  it." 

"  Insists  !  You  say,  Poel,  that  the  viceroy  insists  upon 
this  match  !  But  why  should  he  insist  unless  Ordener 
refused  ? " 

"  I  don't  know,  your  Excellency.     He  seems  sad." 

"  Sad  1     Do  you  know  how  his  father  received  him  ?  ** 

"The  first  time,  it  was  at  the  camp,  near  Bergen. 
His  Serene  Highness  said,  '  I  seldom  see  you,  my  son.* 
•  So  much  the  better  for  me,  my  lord  and  father,'  re- 
plied my  master,  *if  you  take  note  of  it.'  Then  he 
gave  his  Grace  certain  details  about  his  travels  in  the 
North,  and  his  Grace  said:  'It  is  weU.'  Next  day  my 
master  came  back  from  the  palace  and  said:  'They 
want   me   to  marry;    but   I   must   consult   my  second 


46  HANS  OF  ICELAND. 

father,  General  Levin.'  1  saddled  the  horses,  and  here 
we  are." 

"  ReaUy,  my  good  Poel,"  said  the  general,  in  trembling 
tones,  "  did  he  really  call  me  his  second  father  ?  " 

"  Yes,  your  Excellency." 

"  Woe  to  me  if  this  marriage  distresses  him,  for  I  will 
sooner  incur  the  king's  displeasure  than  lend  myself  to  it. 
And  yet,  the  daughter  of  the  Lord  High  Chancellor  of  both 
kingdoms  —  By  the  way,  Poel,  does  Ordener  know  that 
his  future  mother-in-law.  Countess  d'Ahlefeld,  has  been 
here  incognito  since  yesterday,  and  that  the  count  is 
expected  ? " 

"  I  don't  know,  General." 

"  Oh,  yes,"  thought  the  old  governor,  "  he  knows  it ;  for 
why  else  should  he  beat  a  retreat  the  instant  that  he 
arrived  ? " 

Upon  this,  the  general,  with  a  friendly  wave  of  the 
hand  to  Poel,  and  a  salute  to  the  sentinel  who  presented 
arms  to  him,  returned  in  anxious  mood  to  the  quarters 
which  he  had  left  in  anxious  mood. 


V. 


It  seemed  aa  if  every  emotion  had  stirred  his  heart,  and  had  also  de« 
ierted  it  ;  nothing  remained  but  the  mournful,  piercing  gaze  of  a  man 
thoroughly  familiar  with  men,  who  saw,  at  a  glance,  the  aim  and  object  of 
all  things.  —  Schiller  :  The  Visions. 


WHEN",  after  leading  the  stranger  along  the  winding 
stairs  and  lofty  halls  of  the  donjon  of  the  Lion 
of  Schleswig,  the  officer  finally  threw  open  the  door  of  the 
room  occupied  by  the  man  he  sought,  the  first  words  that 
fell  upon  his  ear  were  once  more  these:  "Has  Captain 
Dispolsen  come  at  last  ? " 

The  speaker  was  an  old  man,  seated  with  his  back  to  the 
door,  his  elbows  on  a  writing-table,  his  head  buried  in  his 
hands.  He  wore  a  black  woollen  gown,  and  above  a  bed 
at  one  end  of  the  room  hung  a  broken  escutcheon,  around 
which  were  grouped  the  broken  collars  of  the  orders  of 
the  Elephant  and  the  Dannebrog;  a  count's  coronet,  re- 


48  HANS  OF  ICELAND. 

versed,  was  fastened  under  the  shield,  and  two  fragments 
of  a  hand  of  Justice,  tied  crosswise,  completed  the  strange 
ornamentation.     The  old  man  was  Schumacker. 

"  No,  my  Lord,"  replied  the  officer ;  then  he  said  to  the 
stranger,  "This  is  the  prisoner;"  and  leaving  them  to- 
gether, he  closed  the  door,  without  heeding  the  shrill  voice 
of  the  old  man,  who  exclaimed:  "If  it  is  not  the  captain, 
I  will  see  no  one." 

At  these  words  the  stranger  remained  by  the  door ;  and 
the  prisoner,  thinking  himself  alone,  —  for  he  had  turned 
away,  —  fell  back  into  his  silent  revery.  Suddenly  he 
exclaimed :  "  The  captain  has  assuredly  forsaken  and  be- 
trayed me !  Men,  —  men  are  like  the  icicle  which  an  Arab 
took  for  a  diamond ;  he  hid  it  carefully  in  his  wallet,  and 
when  he  looked  for  it  again  he  found  not  even  a  drop  of 
water." 

"  I  am  no  such  man,"  said  the  stranger. 

Schumacker  rose  quickly.  "  Who  is  here  ?  Who  over- 
hears me  ?     Is  it  some  miserable  tool  of  that  Guldenlew  ?" 

"  Speak  no  evil  of  the  viceroy,  my  lord  Count." 

"  Lord  Count !  Do  you  address  me  thus  to  flatter  me  ? 
You  have  your  labor  for  your  pains ;  I  am  powerful  no 
longer." 

"  He  who  speaks  to  you  never  knew  you  in  your  day  of 
power,  and  is  none  the  less  your  friend." 

"Because  he  still  hopes  to  gain  something  from  me; 
those  memories  of  the  unhappy  which  linger  in  the 
minds  of  men  are  to  be  measured  by  the  hopes  of  future 
gain.** 

"  I  am  the  one  who  should  complain,  noble  Count ;  for 


HANS  OF  ICELAND.  49 

I  remember  you,  and  you  have  forgotten  me.  I  am 
Ordener." 

A  flash  of  joy  lit  up  the  old  man's  sad  eyes,  and  a  smile 
which  he  could  not  repress  parted  his  white  beard,  as 
when  a  sunbeam  breaks  through  a  cloud. 

"  Ordener  !  Welcome,  traveller  Ordener !  A  thousand 
prayers  for  the  happiness  of  the  traveller  who  remembers 
the  prisoner  ! " 

"  But,"  inquired  Ordener, "  had  you  really  forgotten  me  ?  '* 

"  I  had  forgotten  you,"  said  Schumacker,  resuming  his 
sombre  mood,  "  as  we  forget  the  breeze  which  refreshes  us 
and  passes  by ;  we  are  fortunate  if  it  does  not  become  a 
whirlwind  to  destroy  us." 

"  Count  Griffenfeld,"  rejoined  the  young  man,  "  did  you 
not  count  upon  my  return  ? " 

"  Old  Schumacker  did  not  count  upon  it ;  but  there  is  a 
maiden  here,  who  reminded  me  this  very  day  that  it  was 
a  year  on  the  8th  of  last  May,  since  you  went  away." 

Ordener  started. 

"  Heavens  !     Can  it  be  your  Ethel,  noble  Count  ? " 

«  Who  else  ? " 

"Your  daughter,  my  Lord,  has  deigned  to  count  the 
months  of  my  absence !  Oh,  how  many  dreary  days  I 
have  passed  !  I  have  traversed  Norway  from  Christiania 
to  Wardhus ;  but  my  journeyings  always  tended  back 
toward  Throndhjem." 

"  Use  your  freedom,  young  man,  while  you  may.  But 
tell  me  who  you  are.  I  would  like,  Ordener,  to  know  you 
by  some  other  name.  The  son  of  one  of  my  mortal  foes 
is  called  Ordener." 

VOL.  IX. —  4 


60  HANS  OF  ICELAND. 

"  Perhaps,  my  lord  Count,  this  mortal  foe  feels  greater 
kindness  for  you  than  you  for  him." 

"You  evade  my  question;  but  keep  your  secret.  I 
might  learn  that  the  fruit  which  quenches  my  thirst  is  a 
poison  which  will  destroy  me." 

"  Count ! "  cried  Ordener,  angrily ;  "  Count !  "  he  re- 
peated, in  tones  of  pity  and  reproach. 

"Why  should  I  trust  you,"  replied  Schumacker, — "you 
who  to  my  very  face  defend  the  merciless  Guldenlew  ? " 

"  The  viceroy,"  gravely  interrupted  the  young  man,  "  has 
just  ordered  that  for  the  future  you  shall  be  free  and  un- 
guarded within  the  entire  precinct  of  the  Lion  of  Schles- 
wig  keep.  This  news  I  learned  at  Bergen,  and  you  wiU 
doubtless  soon  hear  it  from  headquarters." 

"  This  is  a  favor  for  which  I  dared  not  hope,  and  I 
thought  you  were  the  only  person  to  whom  I  had  men- 
tioned my  wish.  So  they  lessen  the  weight  of  my  chains 
as  that  of  my  years  increases;  and  when  old  age  renders 
me  helpless,  they  will  probably  tell  me,  '  You  are  free.' " 

So  saying,  the  old  man  smiled  bitterly,  and  added: 
"And  you,  young  man,  do  you  still  cling  to  your  foolish 
ideas  of  independence  ?  " 

"If  I  had  not  those  same  foolish  ideas,  I  should  not 
be  here." 

"  How  did  you  come  to  Trondhjem?** 

**  Why,  on  horseback." 

"  How  did  you  reach  Munkhohn  ? " 

"  By  boat." 

"  Poor  fool !  You  think  yourself  free,  and  yet  you  only 
leave  a  horse  for  a  boat.     It  is  not  your  own  limbs  that 


HANS  OF  ICELAND.  51 

carry  out  your  wishes ;  it  is  a  brute  beast,  it  is  material 
matter  ;  and  you  call  that  free  will  I  " 

"  I  force  animate  beings  to  obey  me.'* 

**  To  assume  a  right  to  the  obedience  of  certain  beings 
is  to  give  others  a  right  to  command  you.  Independence 
exists  only  in  isolation." 

"  You  do  not  love  mankind,  noble  Count  ? "  . 

The  old  man  laughed  sadly.  "  I  weep  that  I  am  a  man, 
and  I  laugh  at  him  who  would  console  me.  You  will  yet 
learn,  if  you  do  not  already  know,  that  misfortune  creates 
suspicion  as  prosperity  does  ingratitude.  Tell  me,  since 
you  come  from  Bergen,  what  favoring  winds  blow  upon 
Captain  Dispolsen.  Some  good  fortune  must  have  be- 
fallen him,  that  he  forgets  me." 

Ordener  looked  grave  and  embarrassed. 

"  Dispolsen,  my  lord  Count  ?  I  come  here  to-day  to 
talk  to  you  of  him.  I  know  that  he  possessed  your  entire 
confidence." 

"  You  know  ?  **  broke  in  the  prisoner,  uneasily.  "  You 
are  mistaken.  No  one  on  earth  has  my  confidence.  Dis- 
polsen has,  it  is  true,  my  papers,  and  very  important 
papers  too.  He  went  to  Copenhagen,  to  the  king,  for  me. 
I  may  even  confess  that  I  reckoned  more  surely  upon  him 
than  upon  any  one  else,  for  in  the  days  of  my  prosperity  I 
never  did  him  a  service." 

"  Well,  noble  Count,  I  saw  him  to-day  —  " 

"  Your  distress  tells  me  the  rest ;  he  is  a  traitor.* 

"  He  is  dead." 

"  Dead  I " 

The  prisoner  folded  his  arms  and  bent  his  head,  then 


62  HANS  OF  ICELAND. 

looking  up  at  the  young  man,  said :  "  I  told  you  some 
good  fortune  must  liave  befallen  him ! " 

His  eye  turned  to  the  wall,  where  the  signs  of  his 
former  grandeur  hung,  and  he  waved  his  hand,  as  if  to 
dismiss  the  witness  of  a  grief  which  he  strove  to  conquer. 

"  I  do  not  pity  him ;  't  is  but  one  man  the  less.  Nor 
do  I  pity  myself ;  what  have  I  to  lose  ?  But  my  daughter, 
—  my  unfortunate  daughter !  I  shall  be  the  victim  of  this 
infernal  plot ;  and  what  is  to  become  of  her,  if  her  father 
is  taken  from  her  ? " 

He  turned  quickly  to  Ordener.  "  How  did  he  die  ? 
Where  did  you  see  him  ? " 

"  I  saw  him  at  the  Spladgest.  No  one  knows  whether 
he  died  by  suicide  or  by  the  hand  of  an  assassin." 

"  That  is  now  all-important.  If  he  was  murdered,  I 
know  who  dealt  the  blow.  Then  all  is  lost.  He  bore 
proofs  of  the  conspiracy  against  me.  Those  proofs  might 
have  saved  me  and  ruined  them  !     Unhappy  Ethel ! " 

"  My  lord  Count,"  said  Ordener,  bowing,  "  to-morrow  I 
will  tell  you  whether  he  was  murdered.'* 

Schumacker,  without  answering,  cast  on  Ordener,  as  he 
left  the  room,  a  look  of  quiet  despair  more  terrible  than 
the  calm  of  death. 

Ordener  found  himself  in  the  prisoner's  empty  ante- 
chamber, not  knowing  which  way  to  turn.  Night  was  far 
advanced  and  the  room  was  dark.  He  opened  a  door  at 
haphazard  and  entered  a  vast  corridor  lighted  only  by  the 
moon,  which  moved  rapidly  through  pale  clouds.  Its 
misty  beams  fell  now  and  again  upon  the  long,  narrow 
glass  windows,  and  painted  on  the  opposite  wall  what 


HANS  OF  ICELAND.  68 

Beemed  a  procession  of  ghosts,  appearing  and  disappearing 
simultaneously  in  the  depths  of  the  passage.  The  young 
man  slowly  crossed  himself,  and  walked  toward  a  light 
which  shone  faintly  at  the  end  of  the  corridor. 

A  door  stood  ajar;  a  young  girl  knelt  in  a  Gothic 
oratory,  at  the  foot  of  a  bare  altar,  reciting  in  low  tones 
litanies  to  the  Virgin,  —  simple  and  sublime  aspirations,  in 
which  the  soul  that  rises  toward  the  Mother  of  Seven 
Sorrows  asks  nothing  but  her  prayers. 

The  young  girl  was  dressed  in  black  crape  and  white 
gauze,  as  if  to  show  at  a  glance  that  her  days  had  hitherto 
been  passed  in  grief  and  innocence.  Even  in  this  modest 
attitude  she  bore  the  impress  of  a  strange  nature.  Her 
eyes  and  her  long  hair  were  black  (a  very  rare  beauty  in 
the  North) ;  her  eyes,  raised  to  heaven,  seemed  kindled 
with  rapture  rather  than  dimmed  by  meditation.  She 
seemed  a  virgin  from  the  shores  of  Cyprus  or  the  banks 
of  the  Tiber,  clad  in  the  fanciful  disguise  of  one  of  Ossian's 
characters  and  prostrate  before  the  wooden  cross  and  stone 
altar  of  Christ  Jesus. 

Ordener  started  and  almost  fell,  for  he  recognized  the 
devotee. 

She  was  praying  for  her  father,  for  the  mighty  who 
had  fallen,  for  the  old  and  desolate  prisoner;  and  she 
'tecited  aloud  the  psalm  of  the  deliverance  out  of  Egypt 
She  prayed  for  another  as  well,  but  Ordener  did  not  hear 
his  name.  He  did  not  hear  it,  for  she  did  not  utter  it ;  she 
merely  recited  the  canticle  of  the  Sulamite,  the  bride  who 
awaits  her  bridegroom  and  the  return  of  her  beloved. 

Ordener  stepped  back  into  the  gallery;   he   respected 


64  HANS  or  ICELAND. 

the  maiden  holding  converse  with  the  sky.  Prayer  is  a 
great  mystery,  and  his  heart  was  involuntarily  filled  with 
unknown  but  profane  ecstasy. 

The  door  of  the  oratory  was  gently  closed.  Soon  a  light 
borne  by  a  white  figure  moved  toward  him  through  the 
darkness.  He  stood  stUl,  for  he  felt  one  of  the  strongest 
emotions  of  his  life ;  he  leaned  against  the  gloomy  wall ; 
his  body  was  weak,  and  his  limbs  trembled  beneath  him. 
In  the  silence  of  his  entire  being  the  beating  of  his  heart 
was  plainly  audible  to  his  own  ear. 

As  the  young  girl  passed,  she  heard  the  rustle  of  a  gar- 
ment, and  a  quick,  sudden  gasp,  and  cried  out  in  terror. 

Ordener  rushed  forward.  With  one  arm  he  supported 
her,  with  the  other  he  vainly  tried  to  grasp  the  lamp 
which  she  had  dropped,  and  which  went  out. 

"  It  is  I,"  he  said  softly. 

"  It  is  Ordener  1 "  said  the  girl ;  for  the  last  echo  of  that 
voice,  which  she  had  not  heard  for  a  year,  still  rang  in 
her  ear. 

And  the  moon,  passing  by,  revealed  the  joy  of  her  fair 
face.  Then  she  repeated,  in  timid  confusion,  freeing  herself 
from  the  young  man's  arms,  "  It  is  my  lord  Ordener." 

"  Himself,  Countess  Ethel." 

"  Why  do  you  call  me  countess  ?  ** 

"  Why  do  you  call  me  my  lord  ?  *' 

The  young  girl  smiled,  and  was  silent.  The  young  man 
was  silent,  and  sighed.    She  was  first  to  break  the  silence. 

"  How  came  you  here  ? " 

"  Pardon  me,  if  my  presence  disturbs  you.  I  came  to 
see  the  count,  your  father." 


HANS  OF  ICELAND.  55 

"  Then,"  said  Ethel,  in  a  changed  tone,  '*  you  only  came 
for  my  father's  sake." 

The  young  man  bent  his  head,  for  these  words  seemed 
to  him  unjust. 

"  I  suppose  you  have  been  in  Throndhjem  a  long  time," 
she  continued  reproachfully,  "  I  suppose  you  have  been 
here  a  long  time  already  ?  Your  absence  from  this  castle 
cannot  have  seemed  long  to  you." 

Ordener,  deeply  wounded,  made  no  reply. 

"You  are  right,"  said  the  prisoner,  in  a  voice  which 
trembled  with  anger  and  distress;  "but,"  she  added,  in 
a  haughty  tone,  "  I  hope,  my  lord  Ordener,  that  you  did 
not  overhear  my  prayers  ? " 

"Couutess,"  reluctantly  replied  the  young  man,  "I  did 
hear  you." 

*'AhJ  my  lord  Ordener,  it  was  far  from  courteous  to 
listen." 

"  I  did  not  listen,  noble  Countess,"  said  Ordener  in  a  low 
voice ;  "  I  overheard  you  accidentally." 

"I  prayed  for  my  father,"  rejoined  the  girl,  looking 
steadily  at  him,  as  if  expecting  an  answer  to  this  very 
simple  statement. 

Ordener  was  silent. 

"  I  also  prayed,"  she  continued  uneasily,  and  apparently 
anxious  as  to  the  effect  which  her  words  might  produce 
upon  him,  "I  also  prayed  for  some  one  who  bears  your 
name,  for  the  son  of  the  viceroy,  Count  Guldenlew.  For 
we  should  pray  for  every  one,  even  our  persecutors.** 

And  she  blushed,  for  she  thought  she  was  lying;  but 
she  was  offended  with  the  young  man,  and  she  fancied  that 


56  HANS  OF  ICELAND. 

she  had  mentioned  him  in  her  prayer;  she  had  only 
named  him  in  her  heart. 

"  Ordener  Guldenlew  is  very  unfortunate,  noble  lady,  if 
you  reckon  him  among  the  number  of  your  persecutors; 
and  yet  he  is  very  fortunate  to  possess  a  place  in  your 
prayers." 

"  Oh,  no,"  said  Ethel,  troubled  and  alarmed  by  his  cold 
manner,  "  no,  I  did  not  pray  for  him.  I  do  not  know  what 
I  did,  nor  what  I  do.  As  for  the  viceroy's  son,  I  detest 
him  ;  I  do  not  know  him.  Do  not  look  at  me  so  sternly ; 
have  I  offended  you  ?  Can  you  not  forgive  a  poor  pris- 
oner, —  you  who  spend  your  days  in  the  society  of  some 
fair  and  noble  lady,  free  and  happy  like  yourself  ? " 

"  I,  Countess  ! "  exclaimed  Ordener. 

Ethel  burst  into  tears ;  the  young  man  flung  himself  at 
her  feet. 

"  Did  you  not  tell  me,"  she  continued,  smiling  through 
her  tears,  "that  your  absence  seemed  to  you  short?" 

"Who,  I,  Countess?" 

"  Do  not  call  me  countess,**  said  she,  gently ;  "  I  am  no 
longer  a  countess  to  any  one,  and  far  less  to  you." 

The  young  man  sprang  up,  and  could  not  help  clasping 
her  to  his  heart  in  convulsive  delight. 

"  Oh,  my  adored  Ethel,  call  me  your  own  Ordener  I  Tell 
me,"  —  and  his  ardent  glances  rested  on  her  eyes  wet  with 
tears,  —  "  tell  me,  do  you  love  me  still  ? " 

The  young  girl's  answer  went  unheard,  for  Ordener,  car- 
ried away  by  his  emotions,  snatched  from  her  lips  with  her 
reply  that  first  favor,  that  sacred  kiss,  which  in  the  sight 
of  God  suffices  to  make  two  lovers  man  and  wife. 


HANS  OF  ICELAND.  67 

Both  were  speechless,  because  the  moment  was  one  of 
those  solemn  ones,  so  rare  and  so  brief  in  this  world,  when 
the  soul  seems  to  feel  something  of  celestial  bliss.  These 
instants  when  two  souls  thus  converse  in  a  language  un- 
derstood by  no  other  are  not  to  be  described ;  then  all 
that  is  human  is  hushed,  and  the  two  immaterial  beings 
become  mysteriously  united  for  life  in  this  world  and 
eternity  in  the  next. 

Ethel  slowly  withdrew  from  Ordener's  arms,  and  by  the 
light  of  the  moon  each  gazed  into  the  other's  face  with 
ecstasy;  only,  the  young  man's  eye  of  fire  flashed  with 
masculine  pride  and  leonine  courage,  while  the  maiden's 
iowncast  face  was  marked  by  that  modesty  and  angelic 
»hame  which  in  a  virgin  beauty  are  always  blended  with 
dl  the  joys  of  love. 

"Were  you  trying  to  avoid  me  just  now,"  she  said  at 
last,  "  here  in  this  corridor,  my  Ordener  ?  " 

"  Not  to  avoid  you.  I  was  like  the  unfortunate  blind 
man  who  is  restored  to  sight  after  the  lapse  of  long  years, 
ind  who  turns  away  from  the  light's  first  radiance." 

"  Your  comparison  is  more  applicable  to  me,  for  during 
four  absence  my  only  pleasure  has  been  the  presence  of 
I  wretched  man,  my  father.  I  spent  my  weary  days  in 
trying  to  comfort  him,  and,"  she  added,  looking  down,  "  in 
hoping  for  your  coming.  I  read  the  fables  of  the  Edda  to 
my  father,  and  when  he  doubted  all  men,  I  read  him  the 
Gospel,  that  at  least  he  might  not  doubt  Heaven ;  then  I 
talked  to  him  of  you,  and  he  was  silent,  which  shows  that 
he  loves  you.  But  when  I  had  spent  my  evenings  in 
vainly  watching  the  arrival  of  travellers  by  various  roads, 


58  aANS  OF  ICELAND. 

and  the  ships  which  anchored  in  the  harbor,  he  shook  hia 
head  with  a  bitter  smile,  and  I  wept.  This  prison,  where 
my  whole  past  life  has  been  spent,  grew  hateful  to  me ;  and 
yet  my  father,  who  until  you  came  was  all-sufficient  for 
my  wants,  was  still  here ;  but  you  were  not  here,  and  I 
longed  for  that  liberty  which  I  had  never  known." 

There  was  a  charm  which  no  tongue  can  express,  in  the 
maiden's  eyes,  in  the  simplicity  of  her  love,  and  the  sweet 
hesitation  of  her  confession.  Ordener  listened  with  the 
dreamy  delight  of  a  being  who  has  been  removed  from  the 
world  of  reality  to  enjoy  an  ideal  world. 

"  And  I,"  said  he,  "  no  longer  desire  that  liberty  which 
you  do  not  share  ! " 

"  What,  Ordener ! "  quickly  exclaimed  Ethel,  "  will  you 
leave  us  no  more  ? " 

These  words  recalled  the  young  man  to  all  that  he  had 
forgotten. 

*'My  Ethel,  I  must  leave  you  this  very  night.  I  will 
see  you  again  to-morrow,  and  to-morrow  I  must  leave  you 
again,  to  remain  until  I  may  return  never  more  to  leave 
you." 

"  Alas  ! "  mournfully  broke  in  the  girl,  "  must  you  leave 
me  again  ? " 

"  I  repeat,  my  beloved  Ethel,  that  I  will  come  back  soon 
to  wrest  you  from  this  prison  or  bury  myself  in  it  with 
you." 

"  A  prisoner  with  him ! "  she  said  softly.  "  Ah  !  do  not 
deceive  ine.     Must  I  only  hope  for  such  happiness  ? " 

"  What  oath  do  you  require  ?  What  would  you  have 
me  do  ? ''  cried  Ordener ;   "  tell  me,  Ethel,  are  you  not  my 


KJiUS  OF  ICELAND.  59 

wife?"  And  in  a  transport  of  affection  he  pressed  her 
to  his  heart. 

''  I  am  yours,"  she  whispered. 

The  two  pure  and  noble  hearts  throbbed  rapturously  to- 
gether, and  were  but  purer  and  nobler  for  the  embrace. 

At  this  moment  a  violent  burst  of  laughter  was  heard 
close  by.  A  man  wrapped  in  a  cloak  opened  a  dark  lan- 
tern which  he  had  concealed,  and  the  light  suddenly  re- 
vealed Ethel's  alarmed,  confused  face  and  Ordener's  proud 
but  astonished  features. 

"  Courage,  my  pretty  pair !  Courage  1  It  strikes  me  that 
after  so  short  a  walk  in  the  regions  of  Romance  you  can 
scarcely  have  followed  all  the  windings  of  the  stream  of 
Sentiment,  but  that  you  must  have  taken  a  short-cut  to 
reach  the  village  of  Kisses  so  quickly." 

Our  readers  have  doubtless  recognized  the  lieutenant, 
who  so  cordially  admired  Mademoiselle  de  Scud^ry. 
Eoused  from  his  reading  of  "  Clelia "  by  the  midnight 
bell,  which  the  two  lovers  had  failed  to  hear,  he  started 
on  his  nightly  rounds.  As  he  passed  the  end  of  the 
eastern  corridor,  he  caught  a  few  words,  and  saw  what 
seemed  two  ghosts  moving  in  the  gallery  by  the  light  of 
the  moon.  Being  naturally  bold  and  curious,  he  hid  his 
lantern  under  his  cloak,  and  advanced  on  tiptoe  to  the  two 
phantoms,  so  disagreeably  awakened  from  their  ecstasy  by 
his  sudden  burst  of  laughter. 

Ethel  made  a  movement  to  escape  from  Ordener ;  then, 
returning  to  his  side  as  if  instinctively,  and  to  ask  his  pro- 
tection, she  hid  her  burning  blushes  on  her  lover's  breast. 

He  raised  his  head  with  all  the  dignity  of  a  king. 


50  HANS  OF  ICELAND. 

"  Woe,"  said  he,  "  woe  to  him  who  has  frightened  an4 
distressed  you,  Ethel ! " 

"  Yes,  indeed,"  said  the  lieutenant ;  "  woe  befall  me  if  I 
Hm  so  unfortunate  as  to  alarm  so  sensitive  a  lady  I " 

"Sir  Lieutenant,"  haughtily  exclaimed  Ordener,  "  I  com- 
mand you  to  be  silent  I " 

"  Sir  Insolent,"  replied  the  ofl&cer,  "  I  command  you  to 
be  silent  1" 

"  Do  you  hear  me  ? "  returned  Ordener  in  tones  of  thun» 
der.     "  Buy  pardon  by  your  silence." 

"  Tihi  tua"  responded  the  lieutenant ;  "  take  your  own 
advice,  —  buy  pardon  by  your  silence  ! " 

"  Silence ! "  cried  Ordener  in  a  voice  which  made  the 
windows  shake ;  and  seating  the  trembling  girl  in  one  of 
the  old  arm-chairs  in  the  corridor,  he  grasped  the  officer 
rudely  by  the  arm. 

**  Oh,  clown  ! "  said  the  lieutenant,  half  laughing,  half 
angry ;  "  don't  you  see  that  the  doublet  which  you  are 
so  mercilessly  crashing  is  made  of  the  finest  Abingdon 
velvet  ? " 

Ordener  looked  him  full  in  the  face. 

"  Lieutenant,  my  patience  is  not  so  long  as  my  sword." 

"  I  understand  you,  my  fine  fellow,"  said  the  lieutenant^ 
with  a  sardonic  smile.  "  You  want  me  to  do  you  the 
honor  to  fight  with  you.  But  do  you  know  who  I  am  ? 
No,  no,  if  you  please  !  '  Prince  with  prince ;  clown  with 
clown/  as  the  fair  Leander  has  it." 

"If  he  had  added,  'Coward  with  coward,'"  Ordenei 
replied,  "  I  should  assuredly  never  have  the  distinguished 
honor  of  measuring  weapons  with  yoit" 


HANS  OF  ICELAND.  61 

"  I  would  not  hesitate,  most  worthy  shepherd,  it  you 
did  but  wear  a  uniform." 

"I  have  neither  lace  nor  fringes,  Lieutenant;  but  I 
wear  a  sword." 

The  proud  youth,  flinging  back  his  cloak,  set  his  cap 
firmly  on  his  head  and  grasped  his  sword-hilt,  when  Ethel, 
roused  by  such  imminent  danger,  seized  his  arm  and 
clasped  his  neck,  with  au  exclamation  of  terror  and 
entreaty.    . 

"  You  are  wise,  my  pretty  mistress,  if  you  do  not  want 
your  young  coxcomb  punished  for  his  temerity,"  said  the 
lieutenant,  who  at  Ordener's  threats  had  put  himself  upon 
his  guard  without  any  show  of  emotion  ;  "  for  Cyrus  was 
about  to  quarrel  with  Cambyses,  —  if  it  be  not  too  great 
an  honor  to  compare  this  rustic  to  Cambyses." 

"  For  Heaven's  sake.  Lord  Ordener,"  said  Ethel,  "  do  not 
make  me  the  cause  and  witness  of  such  a  misfortune  I" 
Then  lifting  her  lovely  eyes  to  his,  she  added,  "  Ordener, 
I  implore  you  !  ** 

Ordener  slowly  replaced  his  half-drawn  blade  in  its 
scabbard,  and  the  lieutenant  exclaimed, — 

"  By  my  faith.  Sir  Knight,  —  I  do  not  know  whether 
you  be  a  knight,  but  I  give  you  the  title  because  you  seem 
to  deserve  it,  —  let  us  act  according  to  the  laws  of  valor, 
if  not  of  gallantry.  The  lady  is  right.  Engagements  like 
that  which  I  believe  you  worthy  to  enter  upon  with  me 
should  not  be  witnessed  by  ladies,  although  —  begging  this 
charming  damsel's  pardon  —  they  may  be  caused  by  them. 
We  can  therefore  only  properly  discuss  the  duellum  remo- 
turn  here  and  now,  and  as  the  offended  party  if  you  will 


62  HANS  OF  ICELAND. 

fix  tlie  time,  place,  and  weapons,  my  fine  Toledo  blade  oi 
my  Merida  dagger  shall  be  at  the  service  of  your  chopping- 
knife  from  the  Ashkreuth  forges  or  your  hunting-knife 
tempered  in  Lake  Sparbo." 

The  "  duel  adjourned,"  which  the  officer  suggested  wai 
usual  in  the  North,  where  scholars  aver  that  the  cuistom 
of  duelling  originated. 

The  most  valiant  gentlemen  offered  and  accepted  a 
duellum  remotum.  It  was  sometimes  deferred  for  several 
months,  or  even  years,  and  during  that  space  of  time  the 
foes  must  not  allude  by  word  or  deed  to  the  matter 
which  caused  the  challenge.  Thus  in  love  both  rivals  for- 
bore to  see  their  sweetheart,  so  that  things  might  remain 
unchanged.  All  confidence  was  put  in  the  loyalty  of  a 
knight  upon  such  a  point ;  as  in  the  ancient  tournament, 
if  the  judges,  deeming  the  laws  of  courtesy  violated,  cast 
their  truncheon  into  the  arena,  instantly  every  combatant 
stayed  his  hand ;  but  until  the  doubt  was  cleared  up,  the 
throat  of  the  conquered  man  must  remain  at  the  selfsame 
distance  from  his  victor's  sword. 

"  Very  well.  Chevalier,"  replied  Ordener,  after  a  brief 
reflection;  "a  messenger  shall  inform  you  of  the  place." 

"  Good !"  answered  the  lieutenant;  "so  much  the  bet- 
ter. That  will  give  me  time  to  go  to  my  sister's  wedding ; 
for  you  must  know  that  you  are  to  have  the  honor  of  fight- 
ing with  the  future  brother-in-law  of  a  great  lord,  the  son 
of  the  viceroy  of  Norway,  Baron  Ordener  Guldenlew,  who 
upon  the  occasion  of  this  *  auspicious  union,'  as  Artamenes 
has  it,  will  be  made  Count  Daneskiold,  a  colonel,  and  a 
knight  of  the  Order  of  the  Elephant ;  and  I  myself,  who 


HANS  OF  ICELAND.  68 

am  a  son  of  the  lord  high  chancellor  oi'  both  kingdoms, 
shall  undoubtedly  be  made  a  captain." 

"  Very  good,  very  good,  Lieutenant  d'Ahlefeld,"  impa- 
tiently exclaimed  Ordener,  "  you  are  not  a  captain  yet,  nor 
is  the  son  of  the  viceroy  a  colonel ;  and  swords  are  always 
swords." 

"  And  clowns  always  clowns,  in  spite  of  every  efifort  to 
lift  them  to  our  own  level,"  muttered  the  soldier. 

"Chevalier,"  added  Ordener,  "you  know  the  laws  of 
duelling.  You  are  not  to  enter  this  donjon  again,  and  you 
are  not  to  speak  of  this  affair." 

"  Trust  me  to  be  silent ;  I  shall  be  as  dumb  as  Mutius 
Scsevola  '7\rhen  he  held  his  hand  on  the  burning  coals.  I 
will  not  enter  the  donjon  again,  nor  permit  any  Argus  of  the 
garrison  to  do  so ;  for  I  have  just  received  orders  to  allow 
Schumacker  to  go  unguarded  in  future,  which  order  I  was 
directed  to  convey  to  him  to-night,  —  as  I  should  have 
done  had  I  not  spent  most  of  the  evening  in  trying  on 
some  new  boots  from  Cracow.  The  order,  between  you 
and  me,  is  a  very  rash  one.  Would  you  like  to  have  me 
show  you  my  boots  ? " 

During  this  conversation  Ethel,  seeing  that  their  angel 
was  appeased,  and  not  knowing  the  meaning  of  a  duellum 
remotum,  had  disappeared,  first  softly  whispering  in 
Ordener's  ear,  "  To-morrow." 

"I  wish.  Lieutenant  d'Ahlefeld,  that  you  would  help 
me  out  of  the  fortress." 

"  Gladly,"  said  the  officer,  "  although  it  is  somewhat 
late,  or  rather  very  early.  But  how  will  you  find  a 
boat?" 


64  HANS  OF  ICELAND. 

"  That  is  my  affair,"  said  Ordener. 

Then,  chatting  pleasantly,  they  crossed  the  garden,  the 
circular  courtyard,  and  the  sq^uare  court,  Ordener  escorted 
by  the  officer  of  the  guard,  meeting  with  no  obstacle  ;  they 
passed  through  the  great  gate,  the  ordnance-room,  the 
parade-ground,  and  reached  the  low  tower,  whose  iron 
doors  opened  at  the  lieutenant's  order, 

"  Good-by,  Lieutenant  d'Ahlefeld,"  said  Ordener. 

"  Good-by,"  replied  the  officer.  "  I  declare  that  you  are 
a  brave  champion,  although  I  do  not  know  who  you  are  or 
whether  those  of  your  peers  whom  you  may  bring  to  our 
meeting  will  be  entitled  to  assume  the  position  of  seconds, 
and  ought  not  rather  confine  themselves  to  the  modest 
part  of  witnesses." 

They  shook  hands,  the  iron  grating  was  closed,  and  the 
lieutenant  went  back,  humming  an  air  by  Lully,  to  enjoy 
his  Polish  boots  and  French  novel. 

Ordener,  left  alone  upon  the  threshold,  took  off  his 
clothes,  which  he  wrapped  in  his  cloak  and  fastened  upon 
his  head  with  his  sword-belt ;  then,  putting  into  practice 
Schumacker's  principles  of  independence,  he  sprang  into 
the  still,  cold  waters  of  the  fjord,  and  swam  through  the 
darkness  towards  the  shore,  in  the  direction  of  the  Splad- 
gest,  —  a  point  which  he  was  almost  sure  to  reach,  dead 
or  alive. 

The  fatigues  of  the  day  had  exhausted  him,  so  that  it 
was  only  with  great  difficulty  that  he  landed.  He  dressed 
himself  hastily,  and  walked  towards  the  Spladgest,  which 
reared  its  black  bulk  before  him,  the  moon  having  been 
for  some  time  completely  veiled. 


HANS  OF  ICELAND.  65 

As  he  approached  the  building  he  heard  the  sound  of 
voices ;  a  faint  light  shone  from  the  opening  in  the  roof. 
Amazed,  he  knocked  loudly  at  the  square  door.  The 
noise  ceased ;  the  light  disappeared.  He  knocked  again. 
The  light  reappeared,  and  he  saw  a  black  figure  climb 
out  of  the  hole  in  the  roof  and  vanish.  Ordener  knocked 
for  the  third  time  with  the  hilt  of  his  sword,  and  shouted  : 
**  Open,  in  the  name  of  his  Majesty  the  King  !  Open,  in 
the  name  of  his  Serene  Highness  the  Viceroy ! " 

The  door  opened  slowly,  and  Ordener  found  himself  face 
to  face  with  the  pale  features  and  tall,  thin  figure  of 
Spiagudry,  who,  his  clothes  in  disorder,  his  eyes  fixed,  his 
hair  standing  erect,  his  hands  covered  with  blood,  held  a 
lamp,  whose  flame  trembled  less  visibly  than  his  long  and 
lanky  figure. 


VOL.  IX. — '* 


VI. 


Pirro.  Never! 

Angela.   What !     I  believe  you  would  try  to  play  the  virtuou«  man. 
Wretch  !     If  you  utter  a  single  word  — 

Pirro.   But,  Angelo,  I  beseech  you,  for  the  love  of  God  — 

Angela.   Do  not  meddle  with  what  you  cannot  prevent. 

Pirro.   Ah  !     When  the  Devil  holds  one  by  a  single  hair,  as  well  yield 
him  the  entire  head.     Unhappy  that  I  am  1 

Emilia  Galotti. 


AN"  hour  after  the  young  traveller  with  the  black 
plume  left  the  Spladgest,  night  fell,  and  the 
crowd  dispersed.  Oglypiglap  closed  the  outer  door  of 
the  funereal  structure,  while  his  master,  Spiagudry,  gave 
the  bodies  deposited  within  a  final  sprinkling.  Then  both 
withdrew  to  their  scantily  furnished  abode,  and  while 
Oglypiglap  slept  upon  his  wretched  pallet,  like  one  of  the 
corpses  intrusted  to  his  care,  the  venerable  Spiagudry, 
seated  at  a  stone  table   covered   with   old  books,  dried 


HANS  OF  ICELAOT).  67 

plants,  and  flesliless  bones,  was  buried  in  grave  studies 
which,  although  really  very  harmless,  had  done  no  little 
to  give  him  a  reputation  among  the  people,  for  sorcery  and 
witchcraft,  —  the  disagreeable  consequence  of  science  at 
this  period. 

He  had  been  absorbed  in  his  meditations  for  some 
hours,  and,  ready  at  last  to  exchange  his  books  for  his 
bed,  he  paused  at  this  mournful  passage  from  Thormodr 
Torfesen :  "  When  a  man  lights  his  lamp,  death  is  beside 
him  ere  it  be  extinguished." 

"  With  the  learned  doctor's  leave,"  he  muttered,  "  he 
shall  not  be  beside  me  to-night." 

And  he  took  up  his  lamp  to  blow  it  out. 

"  Spiagudry ! "  cried  a  voice  from  the  room  where  the 
corpses  lay. 

The  old  man  shook  from  head  to  foot.  Not  that  he 
believed,  as  another  might  have  done  in  his  place,  that 
the  gloomy  guests  of  the  Spladgest  had  risen  in  revolt 
against  their  master.  He  was  enough  of  a  scholar  to  be 
proof  against  such  imaginary  terrors;  and  his  alarm  was 
genuine,  because  he  knew  the  voice  which  called  him  only 
too  welL 

**  Spiagudry ! "  angrily  repeated  the  voice,  "  must  I 
come  and  pull  ofif  your  ears  before  I  can  make  you  hear 
me?" 

"  Saint  Hospitius  have  mercy,  not  on  my  soul,  but  on 
my  body!"  said  the  terrified  old  man;  and  with  a  step 
both  hastened  and  delayed  by  fear,  he  moved  towards  the 
second  side  door,  which  he  opened.  Our  readers  have  not 
forgotten  that  this  door  Jed  into  the  mortuary. 


68  HANS  OF  ICELAND. 

His  lamp  lit  up  a  strange  and  hideous  scene,  —  on 
the  one  hand,  the  thin,  tall,  stooping  figure  of  Spiagudry ; 
on  the  other,  a  short,  stout  man,  dressed  from  head  to 
foot  in  the  skins  of  wild  beasts,  still  stained  with  dried 
blood,  standing  at  the  feet  of  Gill  Stadt's  corpse,  which, 
with  the  dead  bodies  of  the  young  girl  and  the  captain, 
occupied  the  background.  These  three  mute  witnesses, 
buried  in  shadow,  were  the  only  ones  who  could  behold, 
without  flying  in  horror,  the  two  living  beings  who  now 
entered  into  conversation. 

The  features  of  the  little  man,  thrown  into  vivid  relief 
by  the  light,  were  singularly  wild  and  fierce.  His  beard 
was  red  and  bushy,  and  his  forehead,  hidden  under  an 
elkskin  cap,  seemed  bristling  with  hair  of  the  same  color; 
his  mouth  was  large,  his  lips  thick,  his  teeth  white,  sharp, 
and  far  apart,  his  nose  hooked  like  an  eagle's  beak ;  and 
his  grayish-blue  eyes,  which  were  extremely  quick,  flashed 
a  side  glance  at  Spiagudry,  in  which  the  ferocity  of  a  tiger 
was  only  tempered  by  the  malice  of  a  monkey.  This  sin- 
gular character  was  armed  with  a  broadsword,  an  un- 
sheathed dagger,  and  a  stone  axe,  upon  whose  long  handle 
he  leaned ;  his  hands  were  covered  with  thick  gloves  made 
of  a  blue  fox-skin. 

" That  old  ghost  keeps  me  waiting  a  long  time*  said  ho, 
as  if  talking  to  himself;  and  he  uttered  a  sound  like  the 
roar  of  a  wild  beast. 

Spiagudry  would  certainly  have  turned  pale  with  fright, 
had  he  been  capable  of  turning  paler  than  he  was. 

"  Do  you  know,"  continued  the  little  man,  addressing 
him  directly,  "  that  I  come  from  Urchtal  Sands  ?    Do  you 


3  or  ICELAlfJD. 


id  beasts,  still  stained  with  dr.ed 
i.ie  feet  of  GUI  Stadt'a  coipae,  which, 
and  the 

f'late  v.  - ..     .:., 

oald  behold, 

Hjmgs  who  now 

^  M  vfuief 


Hans  of  Iceland  finding  the  Body  of  his  Son, 
Gill  Stadt. 

,iPhoto-Etching. —  From  drawing  by  Francois  Flameng. 


ord,  an  un- 

long  handle 

:-.  v^icK.  gloves  made 

i  long  time  *  said  he, 

?.^*  if  talKiiv. 

:3d  a  sound 

a  wiiu 

"<.'*!-V    v.-. 

inly 

have  tnnif  d  riftl-                  •  jt 

jrninq  paler 

HANS  OF  ICELAND.  69 

want  to  change  your  straw  bed  for  one  of  these  beds  of 
stone,  that  you  keep  me  waiting  thus  ?  " 

Spiagudry  trembled  more  than  ever;  the  two  solitary 
teeth  left  to  him  chattered  in  his  head. 

"  Excuse  me,  master,"  said  he,  bending  his  long  back  to 
a  level  with  the  little  man ;  "  I  was  asleep." 

"  Do  you  want  me  to  make  you  acquainted  with  a  far 
sounder  sleep  than  that  ?  " 

Spiagudry's  face  assumed  an  expression  of  terror,  the 
only  thing  which  could  be  more  comic  than  his  expression 
of  mirth. 

"  Well !  what  is  it  ? "  continued  the  little  man.  "  What 
ails  you  ?     Is  my  presence  disagreeable  to  you  ?  " 

"  Oh,  my  lord  and  master ! "  replied  the  old  keeper, 
"  there  can  surely  be  no  greater  happiness  for  me  than  to 
see  your  Excellence." 

And  the  effort  which  he  made  to  twist  his  frightened 
face  into  a  smile  would  have  unbent  the  brow  of  any  but 
the  dead. 

"  Tailless  old  fox,  my  Excellence  commands  you  to  hand 
over  the  clothes  of  Gill  Stadt." 

As  he  uttered  this  name,  the  little  man's  fierce,  mocking 
features  grew  dark  and  sad. 

"  Oh,  master,  pardon  me,  but  I  no  longer  have  them ! " 
said  Spiagudry.  "  Your  Grace  knows  that  we  are  obliged 
to  turn  over  the  property  of  all  workers  in  the  mine  to 
the  Crown,  the  king  inheriting  by  right  of  their  being  his 
wards." 

The  little  man  turned  to  the  corpse,  folded  his  arms,  and 
«aid  in  a  hollow  voice :    "  He  is  right.     These  miserable 


70  HANS  OF  ICELAND. 

miners  are  like  the  eider  duck ;  ^  their  nests  are  made  for 
them,  but  their  down  is  plucked  from  them." 

Then  raising  the  corpse  in  his  arms  and  hugging  it  to 
his  heart,  he  began  to  utter  wild  yells  of  love  and  grief, 
like  the  howls  of  a  bear  caressing  her  young.  With  these 
inarticulate  sounds  were  blended,  at  intervals,  a  few  words 
in  a  strange  lingo,  which  Spiagudry  did  not  understand. 

He  let  the  corpse  drop  back  upon  the  stone,  and  turned 
towards  the  guardian. 

"  Do  you  know,  accursed  sorcerer,  the  name  of  the  ill- 
fated  soldier  who  was  so  unlucky  as  to  be  preferred  by 
that  girl  to  GHl  ? " 

And  he  kicked  the  cold  remains  of  Guth  Stersen. 

Spiagudry  shook  his  head. 

"  Well !  by  the  axe  of  Ingulf,  the  first  of  my  race,  I 
will  exterminate  every  wearer  of  that  uniform ! "  and  he 
pointed  to  the  officer's  dress.  "  He  on  whom  I  must  be 
avenged  will  surely  be  of  the  number.  I  will  burn  down 
the  entire  forest  to  consume  the  poisonous  shrub  that  it 
contains.  I  swore  it  on  the  day  that  Gill  died,  and  I 
have  already  given  him  a  companion  that  will  delight  his 
corpse.  Oh,  Gill !  so  there  you  lie,  lifeless  and  powerless, 
—  you  who  outswam  the  seal,  outran  the  deer;  you  who 
outwrestled  the  bear  in  the  mountains  of  Kiolen.  There 
you  lie  motionless,  —  you  who  traversed  the  province  of 
Throndhjem,  from  the  Orkel  to  the  Lake  of  Miosen,  in  a 
single  day ;  you  who  climbed  the  peaks  of  the  Dovrefjeld 
as  the  squirrel  climbs  the  oak.     There  you  lie  mute  and 

1  The  Norwegian  peasants  build  nests  for  the  eider  duck,  surprise  them 
while  sitting  on  their  young,  and  strip  them  of  their  down. 


HANS  OF  ICELAND.  71 

dnmb,  Gill,  —  you  who  on  the  stormy  summits  of  Kongs- 
berg  sang  louder  than  the  thunder's  roar.  Oh,  Gill !  so  it 
is  in  vain  that  for  your  sake  I  filled  up  the  Faroe  mines ; 
in  vain  for  your  sake  I  burned  the  Throndhjem  cathedral. 
All  my  labor  is  in  vain,  and  I  shall  never  see  the  race 
of  the  children  of  Iceland,  the  descendants  of  Ingulf  the 
Destroyer,  perpetuated  in  you ;  you  will  never  inherit  my 
stone  axe;  but  you  leave  me  the  legacy  of  your  skull, 
from  which  I  may  henceforth  drink  sea-water  and  the 
blood  of  men." 

With  these  words  he  seized  the  corpse  by  the  head, 
exclaiming :  "  Help  me,  Spiagudry ! "  And  pulling  off  his 
gloves,  he  displayed  his  broad  hands,  armed  with  long, 
hard,  crooked  nails,  like  the  claws  of  a  wild  beast. 

Spiagudry,  seeing  him  about  to  hew  off  the  corpse's 
head  with  his  sword,  cried  out  with  unconcealed  horror, 
**  Good  heavens !  master !    A  dead  man ! " 

"  WeU,"  calmly  responded  the  little  man,  "  would  you 
rather  have  me  sharpen  my  blade  upon  a  living  one  ? " 

"  Oh,  let  me  entreat  your  Grace  —  How  can  your 
Excellency  commit  such  profanation  ?  Your  Worship  — 
Sir,  your  Serenity  would  not  —  " 

"  Are  you  done  ?  Do  I  require  all  these  titles,  living 
skeleton,  to  believe  in  your  deep  respect  for  my  sabre  ? " 

'*  By  Saint  Waldemar  1  By  Saint  Usuph  I  In  the  name 
of  Saint  Hospitius,  spare  the  dead !  ** 

"  Help  me,  and  do  not  talk  of  saints  to  the  devil  I** 

"  My  lord,"  continued  the  suppliant  Spiagudry, "  by  youi 
illustrious  ancestor.  Saint  Ingulf — " 

"  Ingulf  the  Destroyer  was  an  outlaw  like  myself.'* 


72  HANS  OF  ICELAND. 

*'  In  the  name  of  Heaven,"  said  the  old  man,  falling  on 
his  knees,  "  whose  anger  I  would  spare  you  ! " 

Impatience  overcame  the  little  man.  His  dull  gray 
eyes  flashed  like  a  couple  of  live  coals. 

"  Help  me  ! "  he  repeated,  flourishing  his  sword. 

These  words  were  uttered  in  the  voice  which  might 
heseem  a  lion,  could  he  speak.  The  keeper,  shuddering 
and  half  dead  with  fright,  sat  down  upon  the  black  stone 
slab,  and  held  Gill's  cold,  damp  head  in  his  hands,  while 
the  little  man,  by  means  of  sword  and  dagger,  removed 
the  crown  with  rare  skill. 

When  his  task  was  done,  he  gazed  at  the  bloody  skull 
for  some  time,  muttering  strange  words ;  then  he  handed 
it  over  to  Spiagudry,  to  be  cleaned  and  prepared,  saying 
with  a  sort  of  howl,  — 

"And  I,  when  I  die,  shall  not  have  the  comfort  of 
thinking  that  an  heir  to  the  soul  of  Ingulf  will  drink  sea- 
water  and  the  blood  of  men  from  out  my  skulL" 

After  a  mournful  pause,  he  added,  — 

"  The  hurricane  is  followed  by  a  hurricane,  each  ava- 
lanche brings  down  another  avalanche,  but  I  shall  be  the 
last  of  my  race.  Why  did  not  Gill  hate  every  human  face 
even  as  I  do  ?  What  demon  foe  to  the  demon  of  Ingulf 
urged  him  into  those  fatal  mines  in  search  of  a  handful 
of  gold?" 

Spiagudry,  who  now  returned  with  Gill's  skull,  inter- 
rupted him :  "  Your  Excellency  is  right ;  even  gold,  as 
Snorri  Sturleson  says,  may  often  be  bought  at  too  high 
a  price." 

"  You  remind  me,"  said  the  little  man,  '*  of  a  commission 


HANS  OF  ICELAND.  78 

I  have  for  you ;  here  is  an  iron  casket  which  I  found  upon 
yonder  officer,  all  of  whose  property,  as  you  see,  did  not  fall 
into  your  possession ;  it  is  so  firmly  fastened,  that  it  must 
contain  gold,  —  the  only  thing  precious  in  the  eyes  of  men. 
You  will  give  it  to  widow  Stadt,  in  Thoctree  village,  to 
pay  her  for  her  son." 

He  drew  a  small  iron  box  from  his  reindeer-skin  knap- 
sack.    Spiagudry  received  it  with  a  low  bow. 

"  Obey  my  orders  faithfully,"  said  the  little  man,  with  a 
piercing  glance  ;  "  remember  that  nothing  can  prevent  two 
demons  from  meeting ;  I  think  you  are  even  more  of  a  cow- 
ard than  a  miser,  and  you  will  answer  to  me  for  that  box." 

"  Oh,  master,  with  my  soul ! " 

"  Not  at  all.     With  your  flesh  and  bones.** 

At  this  moment  the  outer  door  of  the  Spladgest  echoed 
with  a  loud  knock.  The  little  man  was  amazed;  Spia- 
gudry tottered,  and  shaded  his  lamp  with  his  hand. 

"  Who  is  there  ? "  growled  the  little  man.  "  And  you, 
old  villain,  how  you  will  shake  when  you  hear  the  last 
trump  sound,  if  you  shiver  so  now ! " 

A  second  and  louder  knock  was  heard. 

"It  is  some  dead  man  in  haste  to  enter,**  said  the 
little  man. 

"No,  master,"  muttered  Spiagudry,  **no  corpses  are 
brought  here  after  midnight.** 

"  Living  or  dead,  he  drives  me  hence.  You,  Spiagudry, 
be  faithful  and  be  dumb,  I  swear  to  you,  by  the  spirit  of 
Ingulf  and  the  skull  of  Gill,  that  you  shall  see  the  dead 
bodies  of  the  entire  regiment  of  Munkholm  pass  through 
your  hostelry  in  review." 


74  HANS  OF  ICELAND. 

And  the  little  man,  binding  Gill's  skull  to  his  belt,  and 
drawing  on  his  gloves,  hurried,  with  the  nimbleness  of  a 
goat,  and  by  the  help  of  Spiagudry's  shoulders,  through 
the  opening  in  the  roof,  where  he  vanished. 

A  third  knock  shook  the  whole  Spladgest,  and  a  voice 
outside  commanded  him  to  open  in  the  name  of  the  king 
and  viceroy.  Then  the  keeper,  moved  alike  by  two  dif- 
ferent terrors,  —  one  of  which  might  be  called  the  terror 
of  memory,  and  the  other  of  hope, — hurried  toward  the 
low  door,  and  opened  it. 


VII. 


In  the  pursuit  of  such  pleasure  as  may  bo  found  in  temporal  felicity, 
she  wore  herself  out,  on  rough  and  painful  paths,  without  ever  attaining 
her  object.  —  Confessions  of  Saint  Augustine. 


RETUENING  to  his  closet  after  leaving  Poel,  the 
governor  of  Throndhjem  ensconced  himself  in  a  big 
easy-chair,  and  to  distract  his  thoughts  directed  one  of  his 
secretaries  to  read  over  the  petitions  presented  to  the 
government. 

Bowing  low,  the  secretary  began :  — 

"  1.  The  Eev.  Dr.  Anglyvius  prays  that  a  substitute 
may  be  provided  for  the  Kev.  Dr.  Foxtipp,  the  head  of 
the  Episcopal  library,  on  account  of  his  incompetency. 
The  petitioner  does  not  know  who  should  take  the  place 
of  the  said  incompetent  doctor ;  he  would  merely  state 
that  he,  Dr.  Anglyvius,  has  for  a  long  time  exercised  the 
functions  of  librari —  " 


76  HANS  OF  ICELAND. 

"Send  the  rascal  to  the  bishop,"  interrupted  the 
general. 

"2.  Athanasius  Munder,  priest  and  chaplain  to  the 
prisons,  asks  pardon  for  twelve  penitent  convicts  on  the 
occasion  of  the  glorious  marriage  of  his  Grace,  Ordener 
Guldenlew,  Baron  Thorwick,  Knight  of  the  Dannebrog,  son 
/of  the  viceroy,  and  the  noble  lady  Ulrica  d'Ahlefeld, 
daughter  of  his  Grace  the  lord  high  chancellor  of  the  two 
kingdoms." 

"Lay  it  on  the  table,"  said  the  general.  "I  pity 
convicts." 

"3.  Faustus-Prudens  Destrombidfes,  Norwegian  subject 
and  Latin  poet,  asks  leave  to  write  the  epithalamium  for 
the  said  noble  pair." 

"  Ah,  ha !  The  worthy  man  must  be  growing  old,  for 
he  is  the  same  man  who  wrote  an  epithalamium  in  1674, 
for  the  marriage  planned  between  Schumacker,  then  Count 
of  Grifienfeld,  and  Princess  Louisa  Charlotte  of  Holstein- 
Augustenburg,  —  a  marriage  which  never  took  place.  I 
fear,"  muttered  the  governor,  "  that  Faustus-Prudens  is 
destined  to  be  the  poet  of  broken  matches.  Lay  his  peti- 
tion on  the  table,  and  go  on.  Inquire,  on  behalf  of  the 
eaid  poet,  if  there  be  not  a  vacant  bed  at  the  Throndhjem 
hospital." 

"4.  The  miners  of  Guldbrandsdal,  the  Faroe  Islands, 
Sund-Moer,  Hubfallo,  Eoeraas,  and  Kongsberg,  petition  to 
be  released  from  the  costs  of  the  royal  protectorate." 

"  These  miners  are  restless.  I  hear  that  they  are  even 
beginning  to  grumble  at  our  long  delay  in  answering  their 
petition.     Let  it  be  laid  aside  for  mature  consideration." 


HANS  OF  ICELAND.  77 

*'  5.  Braal,  fisherman,  declares,  in  Aartue  of  the  Odels- 
recht,^  that  he  persists  in  his  intention  of  buying  back  his 
patrimony. 

"6.  The  magistrates  of  Noes,  Loevig,  Indal,  Skongen, 
Stod,  Sparbo,  and  other  towns  and  villages  of  North- 
ern Throndhjem,  pray  that  a  price  may  be  set  upon  th(j 
head  of  the  assassin,  thief,  and  incendiary,  Hans,  said  to 
be  a  native  of  Klipstadur,  in  Iceland.  Nychol  Orugix, 
executioner  for  the  province  of  Throndhjem,  who  claims 
that  Hans  is  his  property,  opposes  the  petition.  Benignus 
Spiagudry,  keeper  of  the  Spladgest,  to  whom  the  corpse 
should  belong,  supports  the  petition." 

"That  robber  is  a  very  dangerous  fellow,"  said  the 
general,  "  particularly  now  that  we  are  threatened  with 
trouble  among  the  miners.  Issue  a  proclamation  offering 
a  thousand  crowns  reward  for  his  head." 

"  7.  Benignus  Spiagudry,  doctor,  antiquary,  sculptor, 
mineralogist,  naturalist,  botanist,  lawyer,  chemist,  me- 
chanic, physicist,  astronomer,  theologian,  grammarian — " 

"  Why,"  broke  in  the  general,  "  is  not  this  the  same 
Spiagudry  who  keeps  the  Spladgest  ? " 

"Yes,  to  be  sure,  your  Excellency,"  replied  the  secre- 
tary, —  "  keeper,  for  his  Majesty,  of  the  institution  of  the 
Spladgest,  in  the  royal  city  of  Throndhjem,  sets  forth  that 
he,  Benignus  Spiagudry,  discovered  that  the  stars  called 
fixed  are  not  lighted  by  the  star  called  the  sun ;  item,  that 

*  The  Odelsrecht  was  a  ningular  law  establishing  a  species  of  entail 
among  the  Norwegian  peasantry.  Any  man  who  was  compelled  to  part 
with  his  patrimony  might  prevent  the  purchaser  from  transferring  it,  by 
declaring  every  tenth  year  that  he  intended  to  buy  it  back. 


78  HANS  OP  ICELAND. 

the  real  name  of  Odin  is  Frigg,  son  of  Fridulf ;  item,  that 
the  marine  lobworm  feeds  on  sand;  item,  that  the  noise 
of  the  inhabitants  drives  the  fish  away  from  the  coast  of 
Norway,  so  that  the  means  of  subsistence  are  growing 
less  in  proportion  to  the  increase  of  the  population ;  item, 
that  the  fjord  known  as  Otte-Sund  was  formerly  known 
as  Limfjord,  and  only  took  the  name  of  Otte-Sund  after 
Otho  the  Ked  cast  his  spear  into  it;  item,  he  sets  forth 
that  it  was  by  his  advice  and  under  his  direction  that  an 
old  statue  of  Freya  was  changed  into  the  statue  of  Justice, 
which  now  adorns  the  market-place  in  Throndhjem,  and 
that  the  lion  found  at  the  feet  of  the  idol  has  been  turned 
into  a  devil,  symbolizing  crime ;  item  —  " 

"  Oh,  spare  me  the  rest  of  his  eminent  services !  Let 
me  see,  —  what  does  he  want  ? " 

The  secretary  turned  over  several  pages,  and  went 
on: 

*'  Your  most  humble  petitioner  feels  that  he  may  justly 
petition  your  Excellency,  in  return  for  so  many  useful 
labors  in  the  domain  of  science  and  literature,  to  in- 
crease the  reward  to  ten  escalins  for  every  corpse,  male 
or  female,  which  cannot  but  be  gratifying  to  the  dead, 
as  proving  the  value  set  upon  their  bodies." 

Here  the  door  opened,  and  the  usher  in  a  loud  voice 
announced,  "The  noble  lady,  Countess  d'Ahlefeld." 

At  the  same  time  a  tall  woman,  wearing  the  small 
coronet  of  a  countess,  richly  dressed  in  scarlet  satin 
trimmed  with  gold  fringe  and  ermine,  entered,  and  accept- 
ing the  hand  which  the  general  offered  her,  seated  herself 
beside  him. 


HANS  OF  ICELAND.  79 

The  countess  was  perhaps  fifty  years  old.  Age  had 
added  little  to  the  furrows  with  which  pride  and  ambition 
had  long  since  marked  her  face.  She  looked  at  the  old 
governor  haughtily,  and  with  an  artificial  smile. 

"  Well,  General,  your  ward  delays.  He  should  have 
been  here  before  sunset." 

"He  would  have  been  here,  my  lady  Countess,  if  he 
had  not  gone  to  Munkholm  upon  his  arrival." 

"  To  Munkholm !     I  hope  it  was  not  to  see  Schumacker  ?" 

«  That  may  be." 

"  Could  Baron  Thorwick's  first  visit  be  to  Schumacker ! " 

**  Why  not,  Countess  ?  Schumacker  is  unfortunate  and 
unhappy." 

"  What,  General  I  Is  the  viceroy's  son  on  familiar  terms 
with  a  prisoner  of  state  ? " 

"When  Frederic  Guldenlew  confided  his  son  to  my 
care,  he  begged  me,  noble  lady,  to  bring  him  up  as  if  he 
were  my  own.  I  thought  that  an  acquaintance  with 
Schumacker  might  be  useful  to  Ordener,  who  is  destined 
some  day  to  wield  such  power;  consequently,  with  the 
viceroy's  permission,  I  obtained  from  my  brother,  Grum- 
mond  de  Knud,  a  permit  to  enter  all  the  prisons,  which  I 
gave  to  Ordener.     He  often  uses  it." 

"  And  how  long,  noble  General,  has  Baron  Ordener  had 
the  pleasure  of  this  useful  acquaintance  ? " 

"  Eather  more  than  a  year.  Countess.  It  seems  that 
Schumacker's  society  pleased  him,  for  it  kept  him  at 
Throndhjem  for  a  long  time ;  and  it  was  only  reluctantly, 
and  by  my  express  request,  that  he  left  the  city  last  year 
to  visit  Norway." 


80  HANS  OF  ICELAND. 

"  And  does  Schumacker  know  that  his  comforter  is  the 
son  of  one  of  his  greatest  enemies  ? " 

"  He  knows  that  he  is  a  friend,  and  that  is  enough  for 
him,  as  for  us." 

"  But  you,  General,"  said  the  countess,  with  a  searching 
look,  "  when  you  tolerated  —  nay,  encouraged  —  this  con- 
nection, did  you  know  that  Schumacker  had  a  daughter  ? " 

"  I  knew  it,  noble  Countess." 

"  And  this  fact  seemed  to  you  of  no  importance  to  your 
pupil  ? " 

"  The  pupil  of  Levin  de  Knud,  the  son  of  Frederic 
Guldenlew,  is  an  honest  man.  Ordener  knows  the  barrier 
which  separates  him  from  Schumacker's  daughter ;  he  is 
incapable  of  winning  the  affection,  unless  his  purpose  was 
upright,  of  auy  girl,  above  all  the  daughter  of  an  unfortu- 
nate man." 

The  noble  Countess  d'Ahlefeld  blushed  and  paled.  She 
turned  away  her  head  to  avoid  the  calm  gaze  of  the  old 
man,  as  if  it  were  that  of  an  accuser. 

"But,"  she  stammered,  "this  connection  strikes  me. 
General,  —  let  me  speak  my  mind,  —  as  strange  and  im- 
prudent. It  is  said  that  the  miners  and  tribes  of  the 
North  are  threatening  to  revolt,  and  that  the  name  of 
Schumacker  is  mixed  up  with  the  affair." 

"  Noble  lady,  you  surprise  me  ! "  exclaimed  the  gov- 
ernor. "  Schumacker  has  hitherto  borne  his  misfortunes 
calmly.    The  report  is  doubtless  ill-founded." 

At  this  moment  the  door  opened,  and  the  usher  an- 
nounced that  a  messenger  from  his  Grace  the  lord  high 
chancellor  wished  to  speak  with  the  noble  countess. 


HANS  OF  ICELAND.  81 

The  lady  rose  hurriedly,  took  leave  of  the  governor,  and 
while  he  continued  his  inspection  of  the  petitions  she 
hastened  to  her  apartments  in  a  wing  of  the  palace,  direct- 
ing that  the  messenger  should  follow  her. 

She  had  been  seated  on  a  rich  sofa  in  the  midst  of  her 
women  for  a  few  instants  only,  when  the  messenger  en- 
tered. The  countess  on  seeing  him  made  a  slight  gesture 
of  aversion,  which  she  hid  at  once  by  a  friendly  smile. 

And  yet  the  messenger's  appearance  was  not  at  all  re- 
pulsive. He  was  a  man  of  somewhat  diminutive  stature, 
whose  plumpness  suggested  anything  else  rather  than  a 
messenger.  Still,  a  close  study  of  his  face  showed  it  to 
be  frank  to  the  point  of  impudence,  and  his  look  of  good- 
humor  had  a  spice  of  deviltry  and  malice.  He  bowed 
low  to  the  countess,  and  ofifered  her  a  package  sealed  with 
silk  thread. 

"  Noble  lady,"  said  he,  "  deign  to  permit  me  to  venture 
to  lay  at  your  feet  a  precious  message  from  his  Grace  your 
illustrious  husband,  my  revered  master." 

"  Is  he  not  coming  himself  ?  And  why  did  he  choose 
you  as  his  messenger?"  inquired  the  countess. 

"  Important  business  delays  the  coming  of  his  Grace,  as 
this  letter  will  inform  you,  Madam.  For  myself,  I  am  by 
the  orders  of  my  noble  master  to  enjoy  the  distinguished 
honor  of  a  private  interview  with  you." 

The  countess  turned  pale,  and  exclaimed  in  a  trembling 
voice,  "  With  me,  —  me,  Musdoemon  ? " 

"  If  it  distresses  the  noble  lady  in  the  slightest  degree, 
her  unworthy  servant  will  be  reduced  to  despair." 

"  Distress  me  !     No,  of  course  not,"  returned  the  couiv 

TOt.  IX. —  6 


82  HANS  OF  ICELAND. 

tess,  trying  to  smile.  "  But  is  this  conversation  ao 
essential  ? " 

The  messenger  bowed  down  to  the  ground. 

"  Absolutely  essential  The  letter  which  the  illustrious 
countess  has  deigned  to  receive  from  my  hands  probably 
contains  a  formal  order  to  that  effect." 

It  was  strange  to  see  the  proud  Countess  d'Ahlefeld 
tremble  and  turn  pale  before  a  servant  who  paid  her  such 
profound  respect.  She  slowly  opened  the  package  and 
read  its  contents.  After  a  second  reading  she  turned  to 
her  women,  and  said  in  a  faint  voice :  "  Go ;  leave  us 
alone." 

"I  hope  the  noble  lady,"  said  the  messenger,  bending 
his  knee,  "  will  deign  to  pardon  the  liberty  which  I  ven- 
ture to  take  and  the  trouble  which  I  seem  to  cause 
her." 

"  On  the  contrary,"  replied  the  countess,  with  a  forced 
smile,  "  I  assure  you  that  I  am  very  happy  to  see  you." 

The  women  withdrew. 

"  Elphega,  have  you  forgotten  that  there  was  a  time 
when  you  were  not  averse  to  being  alone  with  me  ? " 

It  was  the  messenger  who  addressed  the  noble  countess, 
and  the  words  were  accompanied  by  a  laugh  like  that 
uttered  by  the  Devil,  at  the  instant  that  his  compact  ex- 
pires and  he  seizes  the  soul  which  sold  itself  to  him. 

The  great  lady  bowed  her  humbled  head. 

"Would  that  I  had  indeed  forgotten  it!"  she  murmured. 

"  Poor  fool !  Why  should  you  blush  for  thing©  which 
no  human  eye  ever  saw  ? " 

"  God  sees  what  men  do  not  see.** 


HANS  OF  ICELAND.  83 

"  God,  weak  woman !  You  are  not  worthy  to  deceive 
your  husband,  for  he  is  less  credulous  than  you." 

"Your  insults  to  my  remorse  are  scarcely  generous, 
Musdcemon." 

"  Well,  if  you  feel  remorse,  Elphega,  why  insult  it  your- 
self by  daily  committing  fresh  crimes  ?  " 

The  Countess  d'Ahlefeld  hid  her  face  in  her  hands ; 
the  messenger  continued :  "  Elphega,  you  must  choose : 
remorse  and  more  crimes,  or  crime  and  no  more  remorse. 
Do  as  I  do:  choose  the  second  course;  it  is  better — at 
least  it  is  more  cheerful." 

"  Heaven  grant,"  said  the  countess,  in  low  tones,  "  that 
those  words  may  not  be  counted  against  you  in  eternity." 

"  Come,  my  dear,  a  truce  to  jest." 

Then  Musdcemon,  seating  himself  behind  the  countess, 
and  putting  his  arm  about  her  neck,  added :  "  Elphega,  try 
to  be,  at  least  in  imagination,  what  you  were  twenty 
years  ago." 

The  unfortunate  countess,  the  slave  of  her  accomplice, 
strove  to  respond  to  his  loathsome  caresses.  There  was 
something  too  revolting,  even  for  these  degraded  souls,  in 
this  adulterous  embrace  of  two  beings  who  scorned  and 
despised  each  other.  The  illegal  caresses  which  had  once 
delighted  them,  and  which  some  horrible  and  unknown 
expediency  compelled  them  still  to  lavish  upon  each  other, 
now  tortured  them  Strange  but  just  change  of  guilty 
affections !    Their  crime  had  become  their  punishment. 

The  countess,  to  cut  short  this  guilty  torment,  at  last 
asked  her  odious  lover,  tearing  herself  from  his  arms,  with 
what  verbal  message  her  husband  had  charged  him. 


84  HANS  OF  ICELAND. 

"  D'Ahlefeld,"  said  MusdcEmon,  "just  as  he  was  about 
to  see  his  power  confirmed  by  the  marriage  of  Ordener 
Guldenlew  to  our  daughter  —  " 

"  Our  daughter ! "  exclaimed  the  haughty  countess  ;  and 
she  fixed  her  eye  on  Musdcemon  with  a  look  of  pride  and 
contempt. 

"  Well,"  coldly  continued  the  messenger,  "  I  think  that 
Ulrica  is  at  least  as  much  mine  as  his.  I  was  saying  that 
the  match  would  not  be  wholly  satisfactory  to  your  hus- 
band unless  Schumacker  could  at  the  same  time  be  de- 
stroyed. In  his  remote  prison  the  old  favorite  is  yet 
almost  as  much  to  be  dreaded  as  in  his  palace.  He  has 
obscure  but  powerful  friends  at  court,  —  powerful  because 
they  are  obscure;  and  the  king,  learning  a  month  since 
that  the  chancellor's  negotiations  with  the  Duke  of  Hol- 
stein-Ploen  were  at  a  standstill,  cried  out  impatiently: 
'Griffenfeld  knew  more  than  all  of  them  put  together.' 
A  schemer  named  Dispolsen,  come  from  Munkholm  to 
Copenhagen,  had  several  secret  interviews  with  him,  after 
which  the  king  sent  to  the  chancellor's  office  for  Schu- 
macker's  patents  of  nobility  and  title-deeds.  No  one 
knows  the  object  of  Schumacher's  ambition ;  but  if  he 
desire  nothing  but  his  liberty,  for  a  prisoner  of  state  that 
is  the  same  as  to  desire  power !  He  must  therefore  die, 
and  must  die  by  authority  of  justice ;  we  are  now  striving 
to  invent  a  crime  for  him.  Your  husband,  Elphega,  on 
the  plea  of  inspecting  the  northern  provinces  incognito, 
■will  assure  himself  of  the  result  of  our  underhand  deal- 
ings among  the  miners,  whom  we  hope  to  incite  to  rebel, 
in  Schumacker's  name,  which  revolt  we  can  easily  put 


HANS  OF  ICELAND.  85 

down  later.  What  troubles  us  is  the  loss  of  certain  im- 
portant papers  relating  to  this  plot,  and  which  we  have 
every  reason  to  believe  have  fallen  into  the  hands  of  Dis- 
polsen.  Knowing  that  he  had  set  out  to  return  to  Munk- 
holm,  carrying  to  Schumacker  his  parchments,  his  diplomas, 
and  possibly  these  documents  which  might  ruin,  or  at  least 
compromise  us,  we  posted  certain  faithful  men  in  the 
gorges  of  Kiolen,  directing  them  to  rid  us  of  him,  after 
robbing  him  of  his  papers.  But  if,  as  we  are  assured, 
Dispolsen  left  Bergen  by  water,  our  efforts  in  that  quarter 
are  in  vain.  However,  as  I  came  along  I  gathered  vague 
reports  of  the  murder  of  a  captain  by  the  name  of  Dis- 
polsen. We  shall  see.  Meantime  we  are  searching  for 
a  famous  bandit,  Hans,  called  Hans  of  Iceland,  whom  we 
wish  to  put  at  the  head  of  the  revolt  in  the  mines.  And 
you,  my  dear,  —  what  news  have  you  for  me  here  ?  Haa 
the  pretty  bird  at  Munkholm  been  caught  in  her  cage? 
Has  the  old  minister's  daughter  finally  fallen  a  prey  to 
our  falco  fuhus,  our  son  Frederic  ? " 

The  countess,  recovering  her  pride,  again  exclaimed: 
"Our  son!" 

"  I'  faith,  how  old  may  he  be  ?  Twenty-four.  We  have 
known  each  other  some  twenty-six  years,  Elphega." 

"  God  knows,"  cried  the  countess,  "  my  Frederic  is  the 
chancellor's  lawful  heir." 

"If  God  knows  it,"  laughingly  replied  the  messenger, 
"the  Devil  does  not.  Moreover,  your  Frederic  is  but  a 
presumptuous  youngster,  quite  unworthy  of  me,  and  it  is 
not  worth  our  while  to  quarrel  for  such  a  trifle.  He  is  only 
fit  to  make  love  to  a  girL    Has  he  at  least  succeeded  ? " 


86  HANS  OF  ICELAND. 

"  Not  yet,  so  far  as  I  know." 

"  Oh,  Elphega,  do  try  to  play  a  less  passive  part  in  our 
affairs.  The  count  and  myself,  as  you  see,  are  tolerably 
active.  I  return  to  your  husband  to-morrow.  For  mercy's 
sake,  do  not  confine  yourself  to  praying  for  our  sins,  like 
the  Madonna  whom  the  Italians  invoke  when  about  to 
commit  a  murder !  D'Ahlefeld,  too,  must  see  to  rewarding 
me  a  little  more  munificently  than  he  has  hitherto  done. 
My  fortune  is  closely  connected  with  yours ;  but  I  am  tired 
of  being  the  husband's  servant  wlien  I  am  the  wife's  lover, 
and  of  being  only  the  tutor,  the  teacher,  the  pedagogue, 
when  I  am  almost  the  father." 

At  this  instant  midnight  struck,  and  one  of  the  women 
entered,  reminding  the  countess  that  by  the  palace  regu- 
lations all  lights  must  be  put  out  at  that  hour. 

The  countess,  glad  to  end  a  painful  interview,  recalled 
her  attendants. 

"  Permit  me,  gracious  Countess,"  said  Musdoemon,  as  he 
withdrew,  "  to  retain  a  hope  of  seeing  you  to-morrow,  and 
to  lay  at  your  feet  my  homage  and  sincere  respect.** 


VIII. 


It  cannot  be  but  thou  hast  murdered  him ; 
Su  should  a  murderer  look ;  so  dead,  so  grim  ! 

Shakespeare  :  Midsummer  Nights  Dream. 


"  T  TPON  my  honor,  old  man,"  said  Ordener  to  Spiagu* 

vJ  dry,  "I  began  to  think  that  the  corpses  who 
lodge  in  this  building  would  have  to  open  the  door." 

"Excuse  me,  sir,"  replied  the  keeper,  in  whose  ears 
the  names  of  king  and  viceroy  still  rang,  as  he  repeated 
his  trite  excuse,  "I  was  —  I  was  sound  asleep." 

*'Then  I  suppose  your  dead  men  do  not  sleep,  and  it 
was  probably  they  whom  I  heard  talking  just  now." 

Spiagudry  was  confused. 

**  You  —  stranger,  —  you  —  heard  ? " 

"  Oh,  yes  !  but  what  does  it  matter  ?  I  did  not  come 
here  to  meddle  with  your  afiFairs,  but  to  interest  you  in 
mine.     Let  us  go  inside." 


88  HANS  OF   ICELAND. 

Spiagudry  was  by  no  means  anxious  to  allow  the  new- 
comer to  see  Gill's  body,  but  these  last  words  comforted 
him  considerably ;  and  besides,  how  could  he  prevent  his 
entrance  ? 

He  accordingly  allowed  the  young  man  to  pass,  and 
closing  the  door,  said:  "Benignus  Spiagudry  is  at  your 
service  in  all  that  relates  to  human  science;  yet  if,  as 
your  unseasonable  visit  seems  to  show,  you  suppose  that 
you  are  dealing  with  a  sorcerer,  you  are  wrong ;  ne  famam 
credos ;  I  am  only  a  learned  man.  Enter  my  laboratory, 
stranger." 

"  Not  at  all,"  said  Ordener ;  "  my  errand  is  with  these 
corpses." 

"  These  corpses  ! "  said  Spiagudry,  beginning  to  tremble 
again.     "But,  sir,  you  cannot  see  them." 

"  What !  I  cannot  see  bodies  which  are  placed  here  for 
the  sole  purpose  of  being  seen  !  I  repeat,  that  I  wish  to 
question  you  concerning  one  of  them ;  it  is  your  duty  to 
answer.  Obey  cheerfully,  old  man,  or  you  will  be  forced 
to  obey." 

Spiagudry  had  a  sincere  respect  for  swords,  and  he  saw 
the  flash  of  steel  at  Ordener's  side. 

"Nihil  non  arrogat  armis"  he"  muttered;  and  fum- 
bling with  his  bunch  of  keys,  he  opened  the  grating,  and 
admitted  the  stranger  into  the  second  section  of  the  halL 

"  Show  me  the  captain's  clothes,"  said  the  latter. 

At  this  instant  a  ray  from  the  lamp  fell  upon  Gill 
Stadt's  bloody  head. 

"  Good  God ! "  exclaimed  Ordener,  **  what  abominable 
sacrilege  I " 


HANS  OF  ICELAND.  89 

*'  Great  Saint  Hospitius,  pity  me ! "  sighed  the  poor 
keeper. 

"Old  man,"  continued  Ordener,  in  threatening  tones, 
"are  you  so  remote  from  the  tomb  that  you  can  safely 
violate  the  respect  which  is  its  due  ?  And  do  you  not 
fear,  wretched  fellow,  that  the  living  will  teach  you  what 
you  owe  to  the  dead  ? " 

"  Oh,"  cried  the  poor  keeper,  "  mercy !  It  was  not  I ! 
If  you  only  knew  — "  And  he  stopped ;  for  he  remem- 
bered the  little  man's  words  :  "  Be  faithful,  be  dumb." 
"  Did  you  see  any  one  escape  through  that  aperture  ? "  he 
asked  faintly. 

"  Yes ;  was  it  your  accomplice  ? " 

**  No ;  it  was  the  guilty  man,  the  only  guilty  man !  I 
Bwear  it  by  all  the  torments  of  hell,  by  all  the  blessings 
of  heaven,  by  this  same  body  so  infamously  profaned ! " 
and  he  fell  upon  the  pavement  before  Ordener. 

Hideous  as  Spiagudry  was,  there  was  yet  an  accent  of 
truth  in  his  despair  and  protestations,  which  convinced 
the  young  man. 

"  Old  man,"  said  he,  "  rise ;  and  if  you  did  not  outrage 
death,  do  not  degrade  age." 

The  keeper  rose.  Ordener  continued :  "  Who  is  the 
culprit?" 

"  Oh,  silence,  noble  youth  I  You  know  not  of  whom 
you  speak.     Silence !  " 

And  Spiagudry  mentally  repeated :  "  Be  faithful,  be 
dumb." 

Ordener  answered  coldly :  "  Who  is  the  culprit  ?  I 
must  know  I" 


90  HANS  OF  ICELAm). 

"  In  Heaven's  name,  sir,  do  not  say  so !  Be  silent,  for 
Jear  —  " 

"  Fear  will  not  silence  me,  but  shall  make  you 
speak." 

"  Excuse  me ;  forgive  me,  young  master ! "  said  tlie 
agonized  Spiagudry.     "  I  cannot." 

"  You  can,  for  I  insist.     Tell  me  the  profaner's  name  I  ** 

Spiagudry  still  strove  to  evade. 

"  Well,  noble  master,  the  profaner  of  this  corpse  is  the 
assassin  of  that  officer." 

"  Then  that  officer  was  murdered  ?  "  asked  Ordener,  re- 
minded, by  this  abrupt  transition,  of  the  object  of  his 
search. 

"  Yes,  undoubtedly,  sir." 

"  And  by  whom,  —  by  whom  ?  " 

"  In  the  name  of  the  saint  on  whom  your  mother  called 
when  she  gave  you  birth,  do  not  seek  to  know  his  name, 
young  master ;  do  not  force  me  to  reveal  it." 

"  If  my  desire  to  know  it  required  any  spur,  you  would 
add  it,  old  man,  in  the  shape  of  curiosity.  I  command 
you  to  name  the  murderer." 

"  Well,  then,"  said  Spiagudry,  "  see  these  deep  wounds, 
made  by  long,  sharp  nails  on  the  body  of  this  unfortunate 
man.     They  will  name  the  assassin." 

And  the  old  man  showed  Ordener  a  number  of  ugly 
scratches  on  the  naked,  freshly  washed  corpse. 

"  What ! "  said  Ordener,  "  was  it  some  wild  beast  ? " 

"  No,  my  young  lord." 

"  But  unless  it  was  the  Devil  —  " 

"  Hush !     Beware,  lest  your  guesses  come  too  close  to 


HANS  OF  ICELAND.  91 

the  mark.  Did  you  never  hear,"  added  the  keeper  in  a 
low  voice,  "  of  a  man  or  a  monster  with  human  face,  whose 
nails  are  as  long  as  those  of  Ashtaroth  who  ruined  us  all, 
or  of  Antichrist  who  will  yet  destroy  us  ? " 

"  Speak  more  plainly." 

"  '  Woe  unto  you ! '  says  the  Apocalypse  —  ** 

"  I  demand  the  assassin's  name  ! " 

"  The  assassin  —  his  name  ?  My  lord,  have  pity  on 
me ;  have  pity  on  yourself !  " 

"  The  second  of  those  prayers  would  destroy  the  first, 
even  if  serious  reasons  did  not  compel  me  to  tear  that 
name  from  your  lips.     Abuse  my  patience  no  longer." 

"  So  be  it,  if  you  insist,  young  man,"  said  Spiagudry, 
raising  himself,  and  in  a  loud  voice.  "  The  murderer,  the 
profaner,  is  Hans  of  Iceland." 

This  terrible  name  was  not  unknown  to  Ordener. 

"  What ! "  he  cried,  "  Hans !  that  execrable  bandit ! " 

"  Do  not  call  him  a  bandit,  for  he  has  no  followers." 

"  Then,  wretch,  how  do  you  know  him  ?  What  common 
crimes  have  brought  you  together  ? " 

"  Oh,  noble  master,  do  not  stoop  to  believe  in  appear- 
ances. Is  the  oak-tree  poisonous  because  the  serpent  find? 
shelter  within  its  trunk  ?  " 

"  No  idle  words !  A  scoundrel  has  no  friend  who  is  not 
an  accomplice." 

"  I  am  not  his  friend,  and  still  less  his  accomplice ;  and 
if  all  my  oaths  fail  to  convince  you,  sir,  let  me  implore 
you  to  observe  that  this  monstrous  sacrilege  exposes  me, 
twenty-four  hours  hence,  when  Gill  Stadt's  body  is  to  be 
removed,  to  the  torture  allotted  to  those  guilty  of  prof  a- 


92  HANS  OF  ICELAND. 

nation,  and  thus  casts  me  into  the  most  fearful  state  of 
anxiety  ever  endured  by  innocent  man." 

These  considerations  of  personal  interest  moved  Ordener 
more  than  the  suppliant  voice  of  the  poor  keeper,  much 
of  whose  pathetic  though  useless  resistance  to  the  little 
man's  sacrilegious  act  they  had  doubtless  inspired.  Or- 
dener reflected  a  moment,  while  Spiagudry  tried  td  read 
in  Ills  face  whether  this  pause  meant  peace  or  boded  a 
storm. 

At  last  he  said,  in  a  severe  though  quiet  tone :  "  Old 
man,  speak  the  truth !  Did  you  find  any  papers  upon 
that  of&cer?" 

"  None,  upon  my  honor." 

"  Do  you  know  if  Hans  of  Iceland  found  any  ?  * 

"  I  swear  by  Saint  Hospitius  that  I  do  not  know." 

"  You  do  not  know  ?  Do  you  know  where  this  Hans  of 
Iceland  hides  ? " 

"  He  never  hides ;  he  roams  about  perpetually.** 

*'  Perhaps ;  but  where  is  his  den  ? " 

"  That  pagan,"  whispered  the  old  man,  "  has  as  many 
dens  as  the  island  of  Hitteren  has  reefs,  or  the  dog-star 
rays." 

"  I  order  you  again,"  broke  in  Ordener,  "  to  speak  in 
plain  terms.  Let  me  set  you  an  example  ;  hearken.  You 
are  mysteriously  allied  with  a  brigand,  whose  accomplice 
you  still  declare  that  you  are  not.  If  you  know  him, 
you  must  know  where  he  has  gone.  Do  not  interrupt 
me.  If  you  are  not  his  accomplice,  you  will  not  hesitate 
to  lead  me  in  search  of  hira  ! " 

Spiagudry  could  not  contain  his  fright. 


HANS  OF  ICELAND.  98 

*  Tou,  noble  lord !  you,  —  great  God  I  full  of  youth 
and  life,  —  you  would  provoke,  seek  out  that  demon  1 
When  four-armed  Ingiald  fought  the  giant  Nyctolm,  at 
least,  he  had  four  arms  ! " 

"  Well,"  said  Ordener,  with  a  smile,  "  if  four  arms  are 
a  requisite,  will  you  not  be  my  guide  ? " 

"  I !  your  guide  !  How  can  you  jest  with  an  old  man 
who  almost  needs  a  guide  himself  ?  " 

"  Listen,"  repKed  Ordener ;  "  do  not  try  to  jest  with  me. 
If  this  profanation,  of  which  I  would  fain  believe  you  in- 
nocent, exposes  you  to  be  punished  for  sacrilege,  you  can- 
not stay  here.  You  must  fly.  I  offer  you  my  protection, 
but  on  condition  that  you  lead  me  to  the  brigand's  lair. 
Be  ray  guide,  I  will  be  your  saviour.  Nay,  more :  if  I 
catch  Hans  of  Iceland,  I  shall  bring  him  here,  dead  or 
alive.  You  can  then  prove  your  innocence,  and  I  promise 
to  restore  your  ofl&ce.  Stay;  meantime,  here  are  more 
coins  than  your  place  brings  you  in  a  year." 

Ordener,  by  keeping  his  purse  until  the  last,  had  ob- 
served that  gradation  in  his  arguments  required  by  the 
wholesome  laws  of  logic.  They  were  strong  enough  in 
themselves  to  make  Spiagudry  consider.  He  began  by 
taking  the  money. 

"Noble  master,  you  are  right,"  said  he;  and  his  eye, 
hitherto  vague  and  uncertain,  was  fixed  upon  Ordener.  "If 
I  follow  you,  I  incur  the  future  vengeance  of  the  terrible 
Hans.  If  I  stay,  I  fall  to-morrow  into  the  hands  of  Orugix 
the  hangman.  What  is  the  penalty  of  sacrilege  ?  Nerer 
mind.  In  either  case,  my  poor  life  is  in  danger ;  but  as, 
according  to  the  wise  remark  of  Saemond-Sigfusson,  other- 


94  HANS  OF  ICELAND. 

wise  called  the  Sage,  inter  dtw  pcricula  ccqualia.  minus 
imminens  eligendum  est,  I  will  follow  you.  Yes,  sir,  I 
will  be  your  guide.  Pray  do  not  forget,  however,  that 
I  have  done  all  I  could  to  dissuade  you  from  your  daring 
scheme." 

"  Very  good,"  said  Ordener.  "  Then  you  will  be  my 
guide.  Old  man,"  he  added,  with  a  meaning  glance,  "  I 
count  upon  your  fidelity." 

"  Oh,  master  1 "  replied  the  keeper,  "  Spiagudry's  faith  is 
as  pure  as  the  gold  which  you  so  graciously  gave  me." 

"  Let  it  remain  so,  or  I  will  show  you  that  the  steel 
which  I  bear  about  me  is  as  sterling  as  my  gold.  Where 
do  you  think  Hans  of  Iceland  is  ? " 

"  Why,  as  the  southern  part  of  the  province  of  Thrond- 
hjem  is  full  of  troops  sent  thither  on  some  errand  of  the 
lord  chancellor,  Hans  must  have  gone  in  the  direction  of 
Walderhog  cave,  or  toward  Lake  Miosen.  Our  road  lies 
through  Skongen." 

"  When  can  you  start  ?  " 

"  At  the  close  of  the  day  now  dawning,  when  night  falls 
and  the  Spladgest  is  closed,  your  poor  servant  will  begin 
his  duties  as  your  guide,  for  which  he  must  deprive  the 
dead  of  his  care.  We  will  try  to  hide  the  mutilation  of 
the  miner  from  the  eyes  of  the  people  for  this  one  day." 

"  Where  shall  I  meet  you  to-night  ? " 

"  In  the  market-place,  if  it  please  my  master,  near  the 
statue  of  Justice,  which  was  formerly  Freya,  and  which 
will  doubtless  protect  me  with  her  shadow,  in  gratitude 
for  the  fine  devil  which  I  had  carved  at  her  feet." 

Spiagudry  would  probably  have  repeated  the  terms  of 


HANS  OF  ICELAND.  95 

his  petition  to  tlie  governor,  had  not  Ordener  interrupted 
him. 

"  Enough,  old  man ;  it  is  a  hargain.** 

"  A  bargain,"  repeated  the  keeper. 

He  had  scarcely  uttered  these  words,  when  a  low  growl 
was  heard  above  their  heads.     The  keeper  shuddered. 

"What  is  that?  "he  said. 

"  Is  there  not,"  asked  Ordener,  equally  surprised,  "  any 
other  living  being  dwelling  here  besides  yourself  ? " 

"  You  remind  me  of  my  assistant,  Oglypiglap,"  replied 
Spiagudry,  reassured  by  the  thought.  "It  was  probably 
his  snores  which  we  heard.  A  sleeping  Lapp,  Bishop 
Arngrimmsson  says,  makes  as  much  noise  as  a  waking 
woman." 

As  they  talked,  they  approached  the  door  of  the  Splad- 
gest.     Spiagudry  opened  it  softly. 

"  Good-by,  young  sir,"  he  said  to  Ordener ;  "  may 
Heaven  keep  you  merry.  Good-by  until  to-night.  If 
your  road  lead  you  by  the  cross  of  Saint  Hospitius,  deign 
to  utter  a  prayer  for  your  wretched  servant,  Benignus 
Spiagudry." 

Then  hastily  closing  the  door,  as  much  through  fear  of 
being  seen  as  to  guard  his  lamp  from  the  early  morning 
breezes,  he  returned  to  Gill's  corpse,  and  did  his  best  so  to 
arrange  it  that  the  wound  might  not  be  perceived. 

Many  reasons  combined  to  persuade  the  timid  keeper 
to  accept  the  stranger's  perilous  offer.  The  motives  for 
his  bold  resolve  may  be  ranked  as  follows:  (1)  fear  of 
Ordener  here  and  now;  (2)  dread  of  Orugix  the  hangman; 
(3)  an  ancient  grudge  against  Hans  of  Iceland, — a  grudge 


96  HANS  OF  ICELAND. 

which  he  scarcely  dared  acknowledge  even  to  himself, 
so  strong  was  the  power  of  fear;  (4)  a  love  of  science, 
which  would  benefit  largely  by  his  journey;  (5)  confi- 
dence in  his  own  cunning,  which  would  enable  him  to 
evade  Hans;  (6)  a  wholly  speculative  attraction  for  cer- 
tain metal  contained  in  the  young  adventurer's  purse,  and 
probably  also  in  the  iron  casket  stolen  from  the  captain 
and  intended  for  Widow  Stadt,  a  message  which  now  ran 
a  great  risk  of  never  leaving  the  messenger's  hands. 

StiU  another  and  a  final  reason  was  the  well  or  ill 
founded  hope  of  returning  sooner  or  later  to  the  post 
which  he  was  about  to  desert.  Besides,  what  did  it  mat- 
ter to  him  whether  the  robber  killed  the  traveller,  or  the 
traveller  the  robber?  At  this  point  in  his  meditations 
he  could  not  help  saying  aloud :  "  It  will  be  one  more 
corpse  for  me,  anyhow." 

Another  growl  was  heard,  and  the  unhappy  keeper 
shivered. 

"  Indeed,  that  is  not  Oglypiglap's  snore,'*  said  he ;  "  that 
noise  comes  from  without." 

Then,  after  a  moment's  thought,  he  added :  "  How  silly 
I  am  to  be  so  frightened  1  The  dog  on  the  wharf  probably 
waked  and  barked." 

Then  he  finished  his  arrangement  of  Gill's  disfigured 
remains,  and  closing  all  the  doors,  threw  himself  upon 
his  mattress  to  sleep  off  the  fatigue  of  the  past  night  and 
gain  strength  for  the  coming  one. 


^r^%^  k^^ 


i:z  ■i>kf- 


fc'i-^-ljiV^ti":^''- 


5)  confi- 


Schumacker  and  his  Daughter  in  the  Prison  Garden. 
Photo-Etching.  —  From  drawing  by  Demarest, 

hat 


red 


IX. 

Juliet.   Oh,  think'st  thou  we  shall  ever  meet  again  ? 
HoTMO,   I  doubt  it  not :  and  all  these  woes  shall  serve 
For  sweet  discourses  in  our  time  to  come. 

Shakespeare  :  Romeo  and  Juliet, 

THE  signal-light  at  Munkholm  castle  had  just  been 
extinguished,  and  in  its  place  the  sailor  entering 
Throndhjera  fjord  saw  the  helmet  of  the  soldier  on  guard 
gleam  from  afar  in  the  beams  of  the  rising  sun  like  a 
planet  moving  in  its  orbit,  when  Schumacker,  leaning  on 
his  daughter's  arm,  came  down  as  usual  into  the  garden 
which  surrounded  his  prison.  Both  had  spent  a  restless 
night,  —  the  old  man  unable  to  sleep,  the  maiden  kept 
awake  by  happy  thoughts.  They  walked  in  silence  for  a 
time ;  then  the  aged  prisoner  said,  fixing  a  sad  and  serious 
gaze  upon  the  lovely  girl :  — 

"You  blush  and  smUe  at  your  own  thoughts,  Ethel; 
you  are  happy,  for  you  have  no  cause  to  blush  for  the 
past,  and  you  smile  at  the  future." 

Ethel  blushed  still  deeper,  and  her  smile  faded. 

"  My  lord  and  father,"  she  stammered  in  confusion,  "  I 
brought  the  volume  containing  the  Edda." 

"Very  well;  read,  my  daughter,"  said  Schumacker;  and 
he  resumed  his  meditations. 

Then  the  melancholy  captive,  seated  on  a  black  rock 
shaded  by  a  dark  fir,  listened  to  his  daughter's  sweet  voice 

VOL.  IX. —  7 


98  HANS   OF   ICELAND. 

without  heeding  the  words  which  she  read,  as  a  thirsty 
traveller  delights  in  the  murmur  of  the  stream  that 
quenches  his   fever. 

Ethel  read  him  the  story  of  the  shepherdess  Allanga,  who 
refused  a  king  until  he  proved  himself  a  warrior.  Prince 
Eaguar-Lodbrok  could  not  win  the  maid  until  he  returned 
triumphant  over  the  robber  of  Klipstadur,  Ingulf  the 
Destroyer. 

Suddenly  a  sound  of  footsteps  and  the  rustling  of  the 
foliage  interrupted  the  reading  and  roused  Schumacker 
from  his  revery.  Lieutenant  d'Ahlefeld  appeared  from 
behind  the  rock  upon  which  they  sat.  Ethel's  head 
drooped  as  she  recognized  their  tormentor,  and  the  officer 
exclaimed  :  — 

"I'  faith,  fair  lady,  your  lovely  lips  just  uttered  the 
name  of  Ingulf  the  Destroyer.  I  heard  you,  and  I  presume 
that  you  were  talking  of  his  grandson,  Hans  of  Iceland, 
and  that  reminded  you  of  him.  Ladies  love  to  talk  of 
robbers.  By  the  way,  there  are  tales  of  Ingulf  and  his 
descendants  which  are  both  fearful  and  interesting.  In- 
gulf the  Destroyer  had  but  one  son,  born  of  the  witch 
Thoarka  ;  that  son  also  had  but  one  son,  whose  mother  was 
likewise  a  witch.  For  four  centuries  the  race  has  been 
perpetuated  thus  for  the  desolation  of  Iceland,  there  being 
always  a  single  scion,  who  never  produces  more  than  one 
offshoot.  By  this  series  of  solitary  heirs  the  infernal  spirit 
of  Ingulf  has  been  handed  down  to  the  present  day,  and 
flourishes  in  the  famous  Hans  of  Iceland,  who  was  doubt- 
less so  happy  as  to  occupy  your  virgin  thoughts  just  now." 

The  officer  paused  for  an  instant.     Ethel  was  silent  from 


HANS  OF  ICELAND.  99 

embarrassment,  Schumacker  from  vexation.  Delighted  to 
find  them  willing,  if  not  to  answer,  at  least  to  listen, 
he  added,  —  "  The  Klipstadur  outlaw's  one  passion  ia 
a  hatred  of  thg  human  race,  his  one  thought  to  harm 
them." 

"  He  is  wise,"  abruptly  remarked  the  old  man. 

"  He  always  lives  alone,"  resumed  the  lieutenant 

"  He  is  fortunate,"  said  Schumacker. 

The  lieutenant  was  charmed  by  this  double  interruption, 
which  seemed  to  seal  a  compact  for  conversation. 

"  May  the  god  Mithra  preserve  us,"  he  cried,  "  from  such 
wise  men  and  such  fortunate  men  I  Accursed  be  the  evU- 
minded  zephyr  which  brought  the  last  demon  of  Iceland 
to  Norway.  I  was  wrong  to  say  evil-minded,  for  they  say 
it  was  a  bishop  to  whom  we  owe  the  pleasure  of  possessing 
Hans  of  Klipstadur.  If  we  may  believe  the  story,  certain 
Iceland  peasants,  having  captured  little  Hans  among  the 
Bessestad  mountains  in  his  infancy,  were  about  to  kill 
him,  as  Astyages  slew  the  Bactrian  lion's  whelp ;  but  the 
bishop  of  Scalholt  interfered,  and  took  the  cub  under  his 
own  protection,  hoping  to  make  a  Christian  of  the  devil. 
The  good  bishop  tried  in  a  thousand  ways  to  develop 
his  inferiial  intellect,  forgetting  that  the  hemlock  cannot 
be  changed  into  a  lily  even  in  the  hot-houses  of  Babylon. 
So  when  the  young  devil  grew  up,  he  repaid  all  this  care 
by  escaping  one  fine  night  upon  the  trunk  of  a  tree, 
across  the  seas,  lighting  his  flight  by  setting  the  bishop's 
house  on  fire.  That's  the  old  women's  account  of  the 
way  this  Icelander  came  to  Norway,  and  now,  thanks  to 
his  education,  he  affords  us  a  perfect  type  of  the  monster. 


100  HANS  OF  ICELAND. 

Since  then  the  destruction  of  the  Faroe  mines,  the  death 
of  three  hundred  men  crushed  beneath  the  ruins,  the  over- 
throw of  the  hanging  rock  at  Golyn  at  midnight  upon 
the  village  below,  the  fall  of  Half-Broer  bridge  from  the 
rocks  upon  the  high-road,  the  burning  of  Throndhjem 
cathedral,  the  extinction  of  beacon-lights  upon  the  coasti 
on  stormy  nights,  and  countless  crimes  and  murders  hidden 
in  Lakes  Sparbo  or  Miosen,  or  concealed  in  the  caves  of 
Walderhog  and  Rylass,  and  in  the  gorges  of  the  Dovrefjeld, 
bear  witness  to  the  presence  of  this  Ahriman  ^  incarnate 
in  the  province  of  Throndhjem.  The  old  women  declare 
that  a  new  hair  grows  in  his  beard  with  every  fresh  crime; 
in  that  case  his  beard  must  be  as  luxuriant  as  that  of  the 
most  venerable  Assyrian  magi.  Yet  you  must  have  heard, 
fair  lady,  how  often  the  governor  has  tried  to  stop  the 
extraordinary  growth  of  that  beard.'* 

Schumacker  again  broke  the  silence. 

"  And  has  every  effort  to  capture  this  fellow,"  he  asked 
with  a  look  of  triumph  and  an  ironical  smile,  "  been  un- 
successful ?     I  congratulate  the  chancellor." 

The  officer  did  not  understand  the  ex-chancellor's 
sarcasm. 

"Hans  has  hitherto  proved  as  invincible  as  Horatius 
Codes.  Old  soldiers,  young  militiamen,  country  boors, 
mountaineers,  all  fly  or  die  before  him.  He  is  a  demon 
who  can  neither  be  avoided  nor  caught ;  the  best  luck  that 
can  befall  those  who  go  in  search  of  him  is  not  to  find 
him.  You  may  be  surprised,  gracious  lady,"  he  went  on, 
seating  himself  familiarly  beside  Ethel,  who  drew  nearer 

*  The  Persian  god  of  eriL 


HANS  OF  ICELAND.  101 

to  her  father,  "  at  all  my  curious  anecdotes  concerning  this 
supernatural  being.  It  was  not  without  a  purpose  that  I 
collected  these  strange  traditions.  It  seems  to  me  —  and 
I  shall  be  pleased  if  you,  fair  lady,  share  my  opinion  —  that 
the  adventures  of  Hans  would  make  a  delicious  romance, 
after  the  style  of  Mademoiselle  de  Scud^ry's  sublime  sto- 
ries, *  Artamenes,'  or '  CleUa,'  only  six  volumes  of  which  lat> 
ter  I  have  yet  read,  but  it  is  none  the  less  a  masterpiece 
in  my  eyes.  Of  course  we  should  have  to  soften  our  cli- 
mate, dress  up  our  traditions,  and  modify  our  barbarous 
names.  For  instance,  Throndhjera,  which  I  should  call 
*  Durtinianum,'  should  see  its  forests  converted,  by  a  touch 
of  my  magic  wand,  into  delightful  groves  watered  by  a 
thousand  streamlets  far  more  poetic  than  our  hideous  tor- 
rents. Our  dark,  deep  caves  should  give  place  to  charming 
gi'ottos  carpeted  with  gilded  pebbles  and  azure  shells.  In 
one  of  these  grottos  should  live  a  famous  magician,  Hannus 
of  Thule.  For  you  must  own  that  the  name  Hans  of  Ice- 
land is  by  no  means  agreeable.  This  giant,  —  you  must 
feel  that  it  would  be  absurd  not  to  make  the  hero  of  such 
a  work  a  giant,  —  this  giant  should  descend  in  a  direct 
line  from  the  god  Mars  (Ingulf  the  Destroyer  affords  no 
food  for  imagination)  and  the  enchantress  Theona,  —  don't 
you  think  I  have  made  a  happy  change  in  the  name 
Thoarka  ? —  daughter  of  the  Curaean  sibyL  Hannus,  after 
being  educated  by  the  great  Magian  of  Thule,  should 
finally  escape  from  the  pontiff's  palace  in  a  car  drawn  by 
two  dragons,  —  it  would  be  very  narrow-minded  to  cling 
to  the  shabby  old  legend  of  the  trunk  of  a  tree.  Beaching 
the  land  of  Durtinianum,  and  ravished  by  that  enchanting 


102  HANS   OF   ICELAND. 

region,  he  should  choose  it  as  the  place  of  his  abode  and 
the  scene  of  his  crimes.  It  would  be  no  easy  matter 
to  draw  an  agreeable  picture  of  the  robberies  of  Hans. 
However,  we  might  soften  their  horror  by  an  ingeniously 
planned  love-affair.  The  shepherdess  Alcyppe,  walking 
one  day  with  her  lamb  in  a  grove  of  myrtles  and  olives, 
should  be  noticed  by  the  giant,  who  should  suddenly  yield 
to  the  magic  of  her  eyes.  But  Alcyppe  should  love  the 
handsome  Lycidas,  an  officer  of  the  militia,  garrisoned  in 
her  village.  The  giant  should  be  annoyed  by  the  centu- 
rion's happiness,  and  the  centurion  by  the  giant's  atten- 
tions. You  can  fancy,  dear  lady,  how  charming  such 
imaginative  powers  might  make  the  adventures  of  Hannus. 
I  will  wager  my  Polish  boots  against  a  pair  of  slippers  that 
such  a  subject,  treated  by  Mademoiselle  de  Scuddry,  would 
set  all  the  women  in  Copenhagen  wild  with  delight." 

The  last  words  roused  Scliumacker  from  the  melancholy 
thoughts  in  which  he  had  been  buried  during  the  lieuten- 
ant's fruitless  display  of  brains. 

"  Copenhagen  ! "  he  exclaimed.  "  What  news  is  there 
from  Copenhagen,  sir  officer  ? " 

"  None,  i'  faith,  that  I  know  of,"  replied  the  lieutenant, 
"save  that  the  king  has  given  his  consent  to  the  great 
marriage  which  is  just  now  occupying  the  thoughts  of 
both  kingdoms." 

"  What ! "  rejoined  Schumacker ;  "  what  marriage  ? " 

The  appearance  of  a  fourth  speaker  arrested  the  words 
on  the  lieutenant's  lips. 

All  three  looked  up.  The  prisoner's  moody  features 
brightened,  the  lieutenant's  frivolous  face  grew  grave,  and 


HANS  OF  ICELAND.  103 

Ethel's  sweet  countenance,  which  had  been  pale  and  con- 
fused during  the  officer's  long  soliloquy,  again  beamed 
with  life  and  joy.  She  sighed  heavily,  as  if  her  heart 
were  eased  of  an  intolerable  weight,  and  her  sad  smile 
rested  upon  the  new-comer.     It  was  Ordener. 

The  old  man,  the  girl,  and  the  officer  were  placed  in  a 
singular  position  toward  Ordener ;  they  had  each  a  secret 
in  common  with  him,  therefore  each  felt  embarrassed 
by  the  presence  of  the  other.  Ordener's  return  to  the 
donjon  was  no  surprise  to  Schumacker  or  Ethel,  who  were 
expecting  him ;  but  it  amazed  the  lieutenant  as  much  as 
the  sight  of  the  lieutenant  astonished  Ordener,  who  might 
have  feared  some  indiscretion  on  the  part  of  the  officer  in 
regard  to  the  scene  of  the  previous  night,  if  the  silence 
ordained  by  the  etiquette  of  duelling  had  not  reassured 
him.  He  could  therefore  only  be  surprised  at  seeing  him 
quietly  seated  between  his  two  prisoners. 

These  four  persons  could  say  nothing  while  together,  for 
the  very  reason  that  they  would  have  had  much  to  say  had 
they  been  alone.  Therefore,  aside  from  glances  of  intelli- 
gence and  embarrassment,  Ordener  met  with  an  absolutely 
silent  reception. 

The  lieutenant  burst  out  laughing. 

"  By  the  train  of  the  royal  mantle,  my  dear  new-comer, 
here 's  a  silence  by  no  means  unlike  that  of  the  senators 
of  Gaul  when  Brennus  the  Eoman —  Upon  my  honor, 
I  have  forgotten  which  were  the  Eomans  and  which 
the  Gauls,  —  the  senators  or  the  general  Never  mind. 
Since  you  are  here,  help  me  to  enlighten  this  worthy  old 
gentleman  as  to  the  news.     I  was  just  about  to  tell  him, 


104  HANS  OF  ICELAND. 

when  you  made  your  sudden  entry  on  the  stage,  about 
the  famous  marriage  which  is  now  absorbing  both  Medes 
and  Persians." 

"  What  marriage  ? "  asked  Ordener  and  Schumacker 
with  a  single  voice. 

"By  the  cut  of  your  clothes,  sir  stranger,"  cried  the 
lieutenant,  clapping  his  hands,  "  I  guessed  that  you 
came  from  some  other  world.  Your  present  question 
turns  my  doubt  to  certainty.  You  must  have  landed 
only  yesterday  on  the  banks  of  the  Nidder  in  a  fairy- 
car  drawn  by  two  winged  dragons;  for  you  could  not 
have  travelled  through  Norway  without  hearing  of  the 
wonderful  marriage  of  the  viceroy's  son  and  the  lord 
chancellor's  daughter." 

Schumacker  turned  to  the  lieutenant. 

"  What !  Is  Ordener  Guldenlew  to  marry  Ulrica 
d'Ahlefeld  ? " 

"  As  you  say,"  replied  the  ofl&cer ;  "  and  it  will  all  be 
settled  before  the  fashion  of  French  farthingales  reaches 
Copenhagen." 

"Frederic's  son  must  be  about  twenty -two  years  old, 
for  I  had  been  in  Copenhagen  fortress  a  year  when  the 
news  of  his  birth  reached  me.  Let  him  marry  young," 
added  Schumacker  with  a  bitter  smile.  "  When  disgrace 
comes  upon  him,  at  least  no  one  can  accuse  him  of  having 
aspired  to  a  cardinal's  hat." 

The  old  favorite  alluded  to  one  of  his  own  misfortunes, 
of  which  the  lieutenant  knew  nothing. 

"  No,  indeed,"  said  he,  laughing  heartily.  *'  Baron  Or- 
dener will  receive  the  title  of  count,  the  collar  of  the  Order 


HANS  OF  ICELAND.  106 

of  the  Elephant,  and  a  colonel's  epaulettes,  which  would 
scarcely  match  with  the  cardinal's  hat." 

"  So  much  the  better,"  answered  Schumacker.  Then 
after  a  pause  he  added,  shaking  his  head  as  if  he  saw 
his  revenge  before  him,  "  Some  day  they  may  make  an 
iron  collar  of  his  fine  order ;  they  may  break  his  count's 
coronet  over  his  head ;  they  may  strike  him  in  the  face 
with  his  colonel's  epaulettes." 

Ordener  seized  the  old  man's  hand. 

"For  the  sake  of  your  hatred,  sir,  do  not  curse  an 
enemy's  good  fortune  before  you  know  whether  it  be  good 
fortune  in  his  eyes." 

"Pooh!"  said  the  lieutenant.  "What  are  the  old  fel- 
low's railings  to  Baron  Thorwick  ? " 

"Lieutenant,"  cried  Ordener,  "they  may  be  more  to  him 
than  you  think.  And,"  he  added,  after  a  brief  silence, 
"your  grand  marriage  is  not  so  certain  as  you  suppose." 

" Fiat  quod  vis"  rejoined  the  lieutenant,  with  an  ironical 
bow ;  "  the  king,  the  viceroy,  and  the  chancellor  have,  it 
is  true,  made  every  arrangement  for  the  wedding ;  but  if 
it  displeases  you.  Sir  Stranger,  what  matter  the  lord  chan- 
cellor, the  viceroy,  and  the  king  ! " 

"  You  may  be  right,"  said  Ordener,  seriously. 

"  Oh,  by  my  faith  ! "  —  and  the  lieutenant  threw  himself 
back  in  a  fit  of  laughter,  — "  this  is  too  good !  How  I 
wish  Baron  Thorwick  could  hear  a  fortune-teller  so  well 
instructed  in  regard  to  the  things  of  this  world  decide 
bis  fate.  Believe  me,  my  learned  prophet,  your  beard  is 
not  long  enough  for  a  good  sorcerer." 

"  Sir  Lieutenant,"  coldly  answered  Ordener,  "  I  do  not 


106  HANS   OF  ICELAND. 

think  that  Ordener  Guldenlew  will  ever  marry  a  woman 
whom  he  does  not  love." 

"  Ha,  ha !  here  we  have  the  Book  of  Proverbs.  And 
who  tells  you,  Sir  Greenmantle,  that  the  "baron  does  not 
love  Ulrica  d'Ahlefeld  ? " 

"  And,  if  it  please  you,  in  your  turn,  who  tells  you  that 
he  does  ? " 

Here  the  lieutenant,  as  often  happens,  was  led  by  the 
heat  of  the  conversation  into  stating  a  fact  of  which  he 
was  by  no  means  certain. 

"  Who  tells  me  that  he  loves  her  ?  The  question  is 
absurd.  I  am  sorry  for  your  powers  of  divination ;  but 
everybody  knows  that  this  match  is  no  less  a  marriage  of 
inclination  than  of  convenience." 

"  At  least,  everybody  but  me,"  said  Ordener,  gravely. 

"  Except  you  ?  So  be  it.  But  what  difference  does 
that  make  ?  You  cannot  prevent  the  viceroy's  son  from 
being  in  love  with  the  chancellor's  daughter." 

"  In  love  ? " 

"  Madly  in  love  !" 

"  He  must  indeed  be  mad  to  be  in  love  with  her." 

"  Hullo  !  don't  forget  of  whom  and  to  whom  you  speak. 
Would  not  one  say  that  the  son  of  the  viceroy  could  not/ 
take  a  fancy  to  a  lady  without  consulting  this  clown  ? " 

As  he  spoke,  the  officer  rose.  Ethel,  who  saw  Ordener's 
face  flush,  hurried  toward  him. 

"  Oh  ! "  said  she,  "  pray  be  calm  ;  do  not  heed  these  in- 
sults. What  does  it  matter  to  us  whether  the  viceroy's 
son  loves  the  chancellor's  daughter  or  not?" 

The  gentle  hand  laid  on  the  young  man's  heart  stilled 


HANS  OF  ICELAND.  107 

the  tempest  raging  within.  He  cast  an  enraptured  glance 
at  his  Ethel,  and  did  not  hear  the  lieutenant,  who,  recov- 
ering his  good-humor,  exclaimed :  "  The  lady  acts  with 
infinite  grace  the  part  of  the  Sabine  woman  interceding  be- 
tween her  father  and  her  husband.  My  words  were  rather 
heedless;  I  forgot,"  he  added,  turning  to  Ordener,  "that 
there  is  a  bond  of  brotherhood  between  us,  and  that  we 
can  no  longer  provoke  each  other.  Chevalier,  give  me 
your  hand.  Confess,  you  too  forgot  that  you  were  speak- 
ing of  the  viceroy's  son  to  his  future  brother-in-law.  Lieu- 
tenant d'Ahlefeld." 

At  this  name  Schumacker,  who  had  hitherto  looked  on 
with  an  indifferent  or  merely  an  impatient  eye,  sprang 
from  his  stone  seat  with  a  terrible  cry :  "  D'Ahlefeld  !  A 
D'Ahlefeld  here !  Serpent !  How  could  I  fail  to  recog- 
nize the  abominable  father  in  his  son  ?  Leave  me  in 
peace  in  my  cell !  I  was  not  condemned  to  the  punish- 
ment of  seeing  you.  It  only  needs,  as  he  desired  just  now, 
that  the  son  of  Guldenlew  should  join  the  son  of  d'Ahle- 
feld !  Traitors  !  cowards !  why  do  they  not  come  them- 
selves to  enjoy  my  tears  of  madness  and  rage  ?  Abhorred, 
abhorred  race !     Son  of  d'Ahlefeld,  leave  me ! " 

The  officer,  at  first  bewildered  by  the  sharpness  of  these 
invectives,  soon  lost  his  temper  and  found  his  speech. 

"  Silence,  lunatic  !     Cease  your  devilish  litanies  ! " 

"  Leave  me  !  leave  me  I "  repeated  the  old  man  ;  "  and 
take  my  curse,  my  curse  upon  you  and  the  miserable  race 
of  Guldenlew,  which  is  to  be  allied  to  you ! " 

"  By  Heaven ! "  exclaimed  the  enraged  officer,  "  you  in* 
•ult  me  doubly!" 


108  HANS  OF  ICELAND. 

Ordener  restrained  the  lieutenant,  who  was  beside  him- 
self with  passion. 

"  Bespect  an  old  man,  even  if  he  he  your  enemy,  Lieu- 
tenant; we  have  already  one  question  to  settle  together, 
and  I  wiU  answer  to  you  for  the  prisoner's  offences." 

"  So  be  it,"  said  the  lieutenant ;  "  you  contract  a  double 
debt.  The  fight  will  be  to  the  death,  for  I  have  both  my 
brother-in-law  and  myself  to  avenge.  Think  that  with 
my  gauntlet  you  pick  up  that  of  Ordener  Guldenlew." 

"  Lieutenant  d'Ahlefeld,"  replied  Ordener,  *'  you  espouse 
the  cause  of  the  absent  with  a  warmth  which  proves  your 
generosity.  Would  there  not  be  as  much  in  showing  pity 
for  an  unfortunate  old  man  to  whom  adversity  gives  some 
right  to  be  unjust  ? " 

D'Ahlefeld  was  one  of  those  souls  in  whom  virtue  is 
kindled  by  praise.  He  pressed  Ordener's  hand,  and  ap- 
proached Schumacker,  who,  exhausted  by  his  emotion,  had 
sunk  back  upon  the  rock,  in  the  tearful  Ethel's  arms. 

"  Lord  Schumacker,"  said  the  officer,  "  you  abused  the 
privileges  of  your  age,  and  I  might  have  abused  the 
privileges  of  my  youth,  if  you  had  not  found  a  champion. 
I  enter  your  prison  this  morning  for  the  last  time,  for  I 
come  to  tell  you  that  you  may  henceforth  remain,  by 
special  order  of  the  viceroy,  free  and  unguarded  in  this 
donjon.  Receive  this  good  news  from  the  lips  of  an 
enemy." 

"  Go ! "  said  the  old  prisoner,  in  a  hollow  voice. 

The  lieutenant  bowed  and  obeyed,  inwardly  pleased  that 
he  had  won  the  approving  glance  of  Ordener. 

Schumacker  sat  for  some  time  with  folded  arms  and 


HANS  OF  ICELAND.  109 

bent  head,  buried  in  thought.  Suddenly  he  looked  up  at 
Ordener,  who  stood  before  him  in  silence. 

"Well?  "said  he. 

*'  My  lord  Count,  Dispolsen  was  murdered." 

The  old  man's  head  again  drooped  upon  his  breast. 
Ordener  went  on :  "  His  assassin  is  a  noted  robber,  — 
Hans  of  Iceland." 

*'  Hans  of  Iceland  1 "  said  Schumacker. 

**  Hans  of  Iceland ! "  repeated  EtheL 

"  He  robbed  the  captain,"  added  Ordener. 

**  And  so,"  said  the  old  man,  "  you  heard  nothing  of  an 
iron  casket,  sealed  with  the  arms  of  Grifienfeld  ? " 

"  No,  my  lord." 

Schumacker  hid  his  face  in  his  hands. 

"  I  wiU  restore  it  to  you,  my  lord  Count ;  trust  me.  The 
murder  was  committed  yesterday  morning.  Hans  fled 
toward  the  nortL  I  have  a  guide  who  knows  all  his 
haunts.  I  have  often  roamed  through  the  mountains  of 
Throndhjem.     I  shall  overtake  the  thief." 

Ethel  turned  pale.  Schumacker  rose;  his  expression 
was  almost  joyful,  as  if  he  believed  that  virtue  still  existed 
in  men. 

"  Noble  Ordener,"  he  said,  **  farewell"  And  raising  his 
hand  to  heaven,  he  disappeared  among  the  bushes. 

As  Ordener  turned,  he  saw  Ethel  upon  the  moss-grown 
rock,  pale  as  an  alabaster  image  on  a  black  pedestal. 

"  Good  God,  Ethel ! "  he  cried,  rushing  to  her  and  sup- 
porting her  in  his  arms,  "  what  is  the  matter  ?  " 

*'  Oh  I "  replied  the  trembling  girl  in  scarcely  audible 
tones.     **  Oh,  if  you  have,  I  do  not  say  a  spark  of  love. 


110  HANS  OF  ICELAND. 

but  of  pity  for  me,  sir,  if  you  did  not  speak  yesterday 
only  to  deceive  me,  if  it  be  not  to  cause  my  death  that 
you  have  deigned  to  enter  this  prison,  Lord  Ordener,  my 
Ordener,  give  up,  in  Heaven's  name,  in  the  name  of  all 
the  angels,  —  give  up  your  mad  scheme !  Ordener,  my 
beloved  Ordener ! "  she  continued,  —  and  her  tears  flowed 
freely,  her  head  rested  on  the  young  man's  breast,  — 
**  make  this  sacrifice  for  me.  Do  not  follow  this  robber, 
this  frightful  demon,  with  whom  you  would  fight.  In 
whose  interest  do  you  go,  Ordener  ?  Tell  me,  what  interest 
can  be  dearer  to  you  than  that  of  the  wretched  woman 
w^hom  but  yesterday  you  called  your  beloved  wife  ? " 

She  stopped,  choked  by  sobs.  Both  arms  were  thrown 
around  Ordener's  neck,  and  her  pleading  eyes  were  fixed 
upon  his. 

"  My  adored  Ethel,  you  are  needlessly  alarmed.  God 
helps  the  righteous  cause,  and  the  interest  in  which  I 
expose  myself  is  no  other  than  your  own.  That  iron 
casket  contains  —  " 

Ethel  interrupted  him:  "My  interest!  Have  I  any 
other  interest  than  your  life  ?  Ordener,  what  will  become 
of  me  ? " 

"  Why  do  you  think  that  I  shall  die,  Ethel  ? " 

"  Ah !  Then  you  do  not  know  this  Hans,  —  this  infer- 
nal thief  ?  Do  you  know  what  a  monster  you  pursue  ? 
Do  you  know  that  he  is  lord  of  all  the  powers  of  dark- 
ness ;  that  he  overthrows  mountains  upon  towns ;  that 
subterranean  caverns  crumble  beneath  his  tread ;  that  his 
breath  extinguishes  the  beacons  on  every  rocky  coast? 
And  how  can  you  suppose,  Ordener,  that  you  can  resist 


HANS  OF  ICELAND.  Ill 

this  giant  aided  by  the  demon,  with  your  white  arms  and 
feeble  sword  ? " 

"  And  your  prayers,  Ethel,  and  the  thought  that  I  am 
fighting  for  you  ?  Be  assured,  Ethel,  the  bandit's  strength 
and  power  have  been  greatly  exaggerated.  He  is  a  man 
like  ourselves,  who  deals  out  death  until  he  himself  be 
slain." 

"  Then  you  will  not  heed  me  ?  My  words  are  nothing 
to  you  ?  Tell  me,  what  is  to  become  of  me  if  you  go ;  if 
you  roam  from  danger  to  danger,  exposing  —  for  I  know 
not  what  earthly  interest  —  your  life,  which  is  mine,  by 
yielding  it  to  a  monster  ? " 

Here  the  lieutenant's  tales  recurred  anew  to  Ethel's 
fancy,  exaggerated  by  her  love  and  terror.  She  went  on 
in  a  voice  broken  by  sobs  :  "  I  assure  you,  dear  Ordener, 
they  deceived  you  who  told  you  that  he  was  only  a  man. 
You  should  believe  me  rather  than  others,  Ordener;  you 
know  that  I  would  not  mislead  you.  Thousands  have 
tried  to  do  battle  with  him ;  he  has  destroyed  whole  regi- 
ments. I  only  wish  others  would  tell  you  the  same  •  you 
might  believe  them  and  not  go." 

Poor  Ethel's  prayers  would  doubtless  have  shaken  Or- 
dener's  bold  resolve,  if  he  had  not  gone  so  far.  The  words 
uttered  by  Schumacker  in  his  despair  on  the  previous 
evening  came  back  to  him  and  strengthened  him  in  his 
purpose. 

"  I  might,  my  dear  Ethel,  tell  you  that  I  would  not  go, 
and  yet  carry  out  my  plan ;  but  I  will  never  deceive  you, 
even  to  console  you.  I  ought  not,  I  repeat,  to  hesitate 
between  your  tears  and  your  true  interests.    Your  fortune^ 


112  HANS  OF  ICELAND. 

your  happiness,  perhaps  your  life,  —  your  very  life,  my 
Ethel,  —  are  at  stake."  And  he  clasped  her  affectionately 
in  his  arms. 

"  And  what  do  I  care  ? "  she  returned,  weeping.  "  My 
friend,  my  Ordener,  my  delight,  —  for  you  know  that  you 
are  my  sole  delight,  —  do  not  give  me  a  fearful  and  cer- 
tain misery  in  exchange  for  a  slight  and  doubtful  mis- 
fortune.    What  is  fortune  or  life  to  me  ? " 

"  Your  father's  life,  Ethel,  is  also  at  stake." 

She  tore  herself  from  his  arms. 

"  My  father's  life  ? "  she  repeated  in  a  low  voice,  turning 
pale. 

"  Yes,  Ethel.  This  brigand,  doubtless  bribed  by  Count 
Griffenfeld's  enemies,  has  in  his  possession  papers  whose 
loss  imperils  the  life  of  your  father,  already  the  object 
of  so  many  attacks.  I  would  die  to  win  back  those 
papers." 

Ethel  was  pale  and  dumb  for  some  moments.  Her 
tears  were  dried,  her  heaving  breast  labored  painfully; 
she  looked  on  the  ground  with  a  dull  and  indifferent 
gaze,  —  the  gaze  of  the  condemned  man  as  the  axe  is 
lifted  over  his  head. 

"  My  father's  life !  "  she  sighed. 

Then  she  slowly  turned  her  eyes  toward  Ordener. 

"  What  you  do  is  useless ;  but  do  it." 

Ordener  pressed  her  to  his  bosom.  "  Oh,  noble  girl,  let 
me  feel  your  heart  beat  against  mine !  Generous  friend  ! 
I  will  soon  return.  Nay,  you  shall  soon  be  mine ;  I  would 
save  your  father,  that  I  may  better  deserve  to  be  his  son. 
My  Ethel,  my  beloved  Ethel  1 ' 


',  weeping.     "My 

■  you 

...  cer- 

Utd  mis- 

oJ'?e,  twaiDg 


prdener  bidding  Ethel  farewell. 
Photo-Etching.  —  From  drawing  by  Demarest. 


1 

difterent 

■' 

e  axe  is 

•i  Ordeiiftr 

•  !.-fc 

be  mine 

•it^senre  to  be 

iii?   j-i.. 

HANS  OF  ICELAND.  113 

Who  can  describe  the  emotions  of  a  true  heart  which 
feels  that  it  is  appreciated  by  another  noble  heart  ?  And 
if  the  love  uniting  these  two  similar  souls  be  an  indis- 
soluble bond,  who  can  paint  their  indescribable  raptures  ? 
It  seems  as  if  they  must  feel,  crowded  into  one  brief  in- 
stant, all  the  joy  and  all  the  glory  of  life,  embellished 
by  the  charm  of  generous  sacrifice. 

"Oh,  my  Ordener,  go;  and  if  you  never  return,  grief 
will  kill  me.     I  shall  have  that  tardy  consolation." 

Both  rose,  and  Ordener  placed  Ethel's  arm  within  his 
own,  and  took  that  adored  hand  in  his.  They  silently 
traversed  the  winding  alleys  of  the  gloomy  garden,  and 
reluctantly  reached  the  gate  which  led  into  the  world. 
There,  Ethel,  drawing  a  pair  of  tiny  gold  scissors  from 
her  bosom,  cut  off  a  curl  of  her  beautiful  black  hair. 

"  Take  it,  Ordener ;  let  it  go  with  you ;  let  it  be  happier 
than  I  am." 

Ordener  devotedly  pressed  to  his  lips  this  gift  from 
his  beloved. 

She  added :  "  Ordener,  think  of  me ;  I  will  pray  for  you. 
My  prayers  may  be  as  potent  with  God  as  your  arms  with 
the  demon." 

Ordener  bowed  before  this  angel.  His  soul  was  too  full 
for  words.  They  remained  clasped  in  each  other's  arms 
for  some  time.  As  they  were  about  to  part,  perhaps  forever, 
Ordener,  with  a  sad  thrill,  enjoyed  the  happiness  of  hold- 
ing Ethel  to  his  heart  once  more.  At  last,  placing  a  long, 
pure  kiss  upon  the  sweet  girl's  clouded  brow,  he  rushed 
violently  down  the  winding  stairs,  which  a  moment  later 
echoed  with  the  sweet  and  painful  word,  "  Farewell ! " 

VOL.  IX. —  8 


Ton  would  never  think  her  unhappy.  Everything  about  her  speaks 
of  happiness.  She  wears  necklaces  of  gold,  and  purple  robes.  When 
she  goes  out,  a  throng  of  vassals  lie  prostrate  in  her  path,  and  obedient 
pages  spread  carpets  before  her  feet.  But  none  see  her  in  the  solitude 
that  she  loves  ;  for  then  she  weeps,  and  her  husband  does  not  see  her 
tears.  —  I  am  that  miserable  being,  the  spouse  of  an  honorable  man,  of  a 
noble  count,  the  mother  of  a  child  whose  smiles  stab  me  to  the  heart.  — 
Maturin:  Bertram, 


THE  Countess  d'Ahlefeld  rose  after  a  sleepless  night 
to  face  a  restless  day.  Half-reclining  on  a  sofa,  she 
pondered  the  hitter  after-taste  of  corrupt  pleasures,  and 
the  crime  which  wastes  life  in  ecstasy  without  enjoyment 
and  grief  without  alleviation.  She  thought  of  Musdce- 
mon,  whom  guilty  illusions  had  once  painted  in  such  seduc- 
tive colors,  so  frightful  now  that  she  had  penetrated  his 
mask  and  seen  his  soul  through  his  hody.  The  wretched 
woman  wept,  not  because  she  had  been  deceived,  but  be- 


HANS  OF  ICELAND.  115 

cause  her  eyes  were  no  longer  blinded,  —  tears  of  regret, 
but  not  of  repentance  ;  therefore  her  tears  afforded  her  no 
relief.  At  this  moment  her  door  was  opened.  She  dried 
her  eyes  quickly,  and  turned  away,  annoyed  at  being  sur- 
prised, for  she  had  given  orders  that  she  was  not  to  be  dis- 
turbed. On  seeing  Musdoemon  her  vexation  changed  to 
fright,  which  was  dispelled  when  she  found  that  her  son 
Frederic  was  with  him. 

"  Mother,"  cried  the  lieutenant,  "  how  does  it  happen 
that  you  are  here  ?  I  thought  you  were  at  Bergen.  Have 
our  fine  ladies  taken  to  running  about  the  country  ? " 

The  countess  received  Frederic  with  kisses,  to  which, 
like  all  spoiled  children,  he  responded  very  coldly.  This 
was  possibly  the  worst  of  punishments  to  the  unhappy 
woman.  Frederic  was  her  beloved  son,  the  only  creature 
in  the  world  for  whom  she  felt  an  unselfish  affection ;  for 
a  degraded  woman  often,  even  when  all  sense  of  wifely 
duty  has  vanished,  retains  some  trace  of  the  mother. 

"  I  see,  my  son,  that  when  you  heard  I  was  in  Thrond- 
hjera  you  hastened  to  me  at  once." 

"  Oh,  no ;  not  I.  I  was  bored  to  death  at  the  fort ;  so 
I  came  to  town,  where  I  met  Musdoemon,  who  brought 
me  here." 

The  poor  mother  sighed  heavily. 

"  By  the  way,  mother,"  continued  Frederic,  "  I  am  very 
glad  to  see  you,  for  you  can  tell  me  whether  knots  of  pink 
ribbon  on  the  hem  of  the  doublet  are  still  worn  in  Copen- 
hagen. Did  you  think  to  bring  me  a  flask  of  that  Oil  of 
Youth  to  whiten  the  skin  ?  You  did  not  forget,  I  hope, 
the  last  French  novel,  or  the  pure  gold  lace  which  I  asked 


116  HANS  OF  ICELAND. 

you  to  get  for  my  scarlet  cloak,  or  those  little  combs  which 
are  so  much  used  just  now  to  hold  the  curls  in  place,  or — " 

The  poor  woman  had  brought  nothing  to  her  son,  the 
only  love  she  had  on  earth. 

"  My  dear  boy,  I  have  been  ill,  and  my  sufferings  pre- 
vented my  thinking  of  your  pleasures." 

"Have  you  been  ill,  mother?  "Well,  are  you  better 
now  ?  By  the  bye,  how  is  my  pack  of  Norman  hounds  ? 
I  '11  wager  that  they  have  neglected  to  bathe  my  monkey 
in  rose-water  every  night.  You  '11  see  that  I  shall  find 
my  parrot  Bilboa  dead  on  my  return.  "When  I  am  away 
no  one  thinks  of  my  pets." 

"  At  least  your  mother  thinks  of  you,  my  son,"  said  his 
mother  in  a  faltering  voice. 

Had  this  been  the  inexorable  hour  when  the  destroying 
angel  hurls  sinful  souls  into  everlasting  torments,  he  would 
have  felt  pity  for  the  torture  which  at  this  instant  wrung 
the  heart  of  the  unfortunate  countess.  Musdoemon 
laughed  in  his  sleeve. 

"  Sir  Frederic,"  said  he,  "  I  see  that  the  steel  sword  has 
no  desire  to  rust  in  its  iron  scabbard.  You  do  not  care  to 
lose  the  wholesome  traditions  of  Copenhagen  drawing- 
rooms  within  the  walls  of  Munkholm.  But  yet,  allow  me 
to  ask  you,  what  is  the  use  of  all  this  Oil  of  Youth,  these 
pink  ribbons,  and  little  combs  ?  What  is  the  use  of  all 
these  preparations  for  a  siege,  if  the  only  feminine  fortress 
within  the  walls  of  Munkholm  is  impregnable  ? " 

"  Upon  my  honor,  she  is,"  laughingly  responded  Frederic, 
"  Certainly,  if  I  have  failed.  General  Schack  himself 
would  fail     But  how  can  you  surprise  a  fortress  where 


HANS  OF  ICELAND.  117 

nothing  is  exposed,  —  where  every  post  is  unremittingly 
guarded  ?  How  can  you  contend  against  chemisettes 
which  cover  all  but  the  neck,  against  sleeves  that  hide 
the  whole  arm,  so  that  only  the  face  and  hands  remain 
to  prove  that  the  young  woman  is  not  as  black  as  the 
Emperor  of  Mauritania  ?  My  dear  tutor,  you  yourself 
would  have  to  go  to  school  again.  Believe  me,  that  fort 
is  not  to  be  taken  where  Modesty  is  garrisoned." 

"  Indeed  ! "  said  Musdoemon.  "  But  may  not  Modesty 
be  forced  to  surrender,  if  Love  lay  siege  to  it,  instead  of 
confining  himself  to  a  blockade  of  delicate  attentions  ? " 

"  Labor  in  vain,  my  dear  friend.  Love  is  already 
in  possession  of  the  place,  but  he  serves  to  reinforce 
Modesty." 

"  Ah,  Sir  Frederic,  this  is  news  indeed,  —  with  Love  on 
your  side  —  " 

**  And  who  tells  you,  Musdoemon,  that  he  is  on  my 
side?" 

"  On  whose,  then  ? "  exclaimed  Musdoemon  and  the 
countess,  who  had  listened  in  silence  until  now,  but  who 
was  reminded  of  Ordener  by  the  lieutenant's  last  words. 

Frederic  was  about  to  answer,  and  was  already  prepar- 
ing a  spicy  account  of  the  scene  of  the  previous  night, 
when  he  remembered  the  silence  prescribed  by  the 
etiquette  of  duelling,  which  changed  his  gayety  to 
confusion. 

"!'  faith,"  said  he,  "I  don't  know,  —  that  of  some 
clown  perhaps,  some  retainer." 

"  Some  soldier  of  the  garrison  ? "  said  Musdoemon, 
laughing  heartily. 


118  HANS  OF  ICELAND. 

"  What,  my  son  ! "  exclaimed  the  countess  in  her  turn. 
"  Are  you  sure  that  she  loves  a  rustic,  a  serf  ?  What 
luck,  if  you  are  sure  of  it ! " 

"  Oh,  of  course  I  am  sure.  But  it  *s  not  one  of  the 
soldiers  of  the  garrison,"  added  the  lieutenant,  with  an, 
offended  air.  "  I  am  sure  enough  of  what  I  say,  however,' 
to  beg  you,  mother,  to  cut  short  my  very  unnecessary  exile 
at  that  confounded  castle." 

The  countess's  face  brightened  on  hearing  of  the  young 
girl's  fall.  Ordener  Guldenlew's  eagerness  to  visit  Munk- 
holm  now  appeared  to  her  in  very  different  colors.  She 
gave  her  son  the  benefit  of  them. 

"  You  must  give  us  an  account,  Frederic,  of  Ethel 
Schumacker's  loves.  I  am  not  surprised ;  the  daughter 
of  a  boor  can  only  love  a  boor.  Meantime,  do  not  curse 
that  castle  which  yesterday  afforded  you  the  honor  of  the 
first  advances  towards  an  acquaintance,  from  a  certain  dis- 
tinguished personage." 

"  What,  mother ! "  said  the  lieutenant,  staring  at  her,  — 
"  what  distinguished  personage  ? " 

"  A  truce  to  jests,  my  son.  Did  no  one  visit  you  yester- 
day ?    You  see  that  I  know  all  about  it." 

"  r  faith,  more  than  I  do,  Mother.  Deuce  take  me  if  T 
saw  a  face  yesterday,  except  those  of  the  masks  carved 
beneath  the  cornices  of  those  old  towers." 

"  What,  Frederic  !    You  saw  nobody  ?" 

"  No  one,  mother !  " 

In  omitting  to  mention  his  antagonist  of  the  donjon, 
Frederic  obeyed  the  law  which  bound  him  to  silence  ;  be- 
sides, could  that  clodhopper  be  counted  as  any  one  ? 


HANS  OF  ICELAND.  119 

"  What ! "  said  his  mother.  "  Did  not  the  viceroy's  son 
visit  Munkholm  last  night  ?  '* 

The  lieutenant  laughed. 

*'  The  viceroy's  son !     Indeed,   mother,  you  must  be 
dreaming,  or  else  you  are  joking." 
'    "  Neither,  my  son.    Who  was  on  guard  yesterday  ? " 

"  I  myself,  mother." 

"  And  you  did  not  see  Baron  Ordener  ? " 

"  Not  a  bit  of  it,"  repeated  the  lieutenant. 

"But  consider,  my  boy,  he  may  have  entered  in  dis- 
guise. You  never  saw  him,  having  been  brought  up  at 
Copenhagen,  while  he  was  educated  at  Throndhjem.  Ee- 
member  all  the  stories  about  his  caprices  and  whims,  and 
las  eccentric  ideas.  Are  you  sure,  my  son,  that  you  did 
not  see  any  one  ? " 

Frederic  hesitated  an  instant. 

"  No,"  he  cried,  "  no  one.     I  can  say  no  more," 

"  Then,"  replied  the  countess,  "  I  suppose  the  baron  did 
not  go  to  Munkholm." 

Musdoemon,  at  first  surprised  like  Frederic,  had  listened 
attentively.     He  interrupted  the  countess. 

"  Allow  me,  noble  lady.  Master  Frederic,  pray  tell  me 
the  name  of  the  dependent  loved  by  Schumacker's 
daughter." 

He  repeated  his  question ;  for  Frederic,  who  for  some 
moments  had  been  lost  in  thought,  did  not  hear  him. 

"  I  do  not  know ;  or  rather  —  no,  I  do  not  know." 
'     "And  how,  sir,  do  you  know  that  she  loves  a  dependent  ? " 

"  Did  I  say  so  ?  A  dependent  ?  —  well,  yes  ;  he  is  a 
dependent." 


120  HANS  OF  ICELAND. 

The  awkwardness  of  the  lieutenant's  position  increased 
momentarily.  This  series  of  questions,  the  ideas  to  which 
they  gave  rise,  his  enforced  silence,  threw  him  into 
a  confusion  which  he  feared  he  could  not  much  longer 
control. 

"  Upon  my  word,  Mr.  Musdcemon,  and  you,  my  lady 
mother,  if  a  mania  for  asking  questions  be  the  latest 
fashion,  you  may  amuse  yourselves  by  questioning  each 
other.  For  my  part,  I'll  have  nothing  more  to  say  to 
you." 

And  flinging  open  the  door,  he  disappeared,  leaving 
them  plunged  in  an  abyss  of  doubt.  He  hastened  down 
into  the  courtyard,  for  he  heard  Musdcemon's  voice  calling 
him  back. 

He  mounted  his  horse  and  rode  toward  the  harbor, 
where  he  intended  to  take  a  boat  for  Munkholm,  thinking 
that  there  he  might  find  the  stranger  who  had  given  rise 
to  such  serious  thoughts  in  the  greatest  feather-brain  of 
a  feather-brained  capital 

"If  that  was  Ordener  Guldenlew,"  he  reflected,  "thea 
my  poor  Ulrica  —  But  no ;  it  is  impossible  that  he 
could  be  such  a  fool  as  to  prefer  the  penniless  daughter 
of  a  prisoner  of  State  to  the  wealthy  daughter  of  an  all- 
powerful  minister.  At  any  rate,  Schumacker's  daughter 
can  be  no  more  than  a  caprice ;  and  there  is  nothing 
to  hinder  a  man  who  has  a  wife  from  having  a  mistress 
too  ;  in  fact,  it  is  quite  the  stylish  thing.  But  no,  it  was 
not  Ordener.  The  viceroy's  son  would  never  wear  such 
a  shabby  jacket  And  that  old  black  plume  without  a 
buckle,  beaten  by  the  wind  and  rainl    And  that  great 


HANS  OF  ICELAND.  121 

cloak,  big  enough  for  a  tent  1  And  that  disordered  hair, 
with  no  combs  and  no  frizzes  !  And  those  boots  with 
iron  spars,  covered  with  mud  and  dust !  Indeed,  it  could 
never  be  he.  Baron  Thorwick  is  a  knight  of  the  Danne- 
brog.  That  fellow  wore  no  decoration.  If  I  were  a  knight 
of  the  Dannebrog,  I  believe  I  should  wear  the  collar  of  the 
order  to  bed.  Oh,  no  !  He  had  never  even  read  *  Clelia.' 
No,  it  was  not  the  viceroy's  son." 


XI. 


If  man  conld  still  retain  his  warmth  of  soul  when  experience  has  tanght 
him,  if  he  could  inherit  the  legacies  of  time  without  bending  beneath  the 
weight,  he  would  never  attack  those  exalted  virtues  whose  first  lesson  is 
ever  self-sacrifice.  —  Madame  de  Stabl  :  Germany. 


**  TT  TELL,  what  is  it?    You,  Poel!  what  brings  you 

VV     here?" 

"  Your  Excellency  forgets  that  you  yourself  summoned 
me. 

"Did  I?'*  said  the  general.  "Oh,  I  wanted  you  to 
hand  me  that  portfolio." 

Poel  handed  the  governor  the  portfolio,  which  he  could 
have  reached  himself  by  stretching  out  his  arm. 

His  Excellency  mechanically  replaced  it  without  open- 
ing it;  then  he  turned  over  some  papers  in  an  absent- 
minded  way. 


HANS  OF  ICELAND.  128 

"  Poel,  I  was  going  to  ask  you  —    What  time  is  it  ? " 

"  Six  o'clock  in  the  morning,"  replied  the  general's  ser- 
vant, who  was  facing  the  clock. 

"  I  was  going  to  tell  you,  Poel  -^  What  is  the  news 
to-day  at  the  palace  ? " 

The  general  went  on  shuffling  his  papers,  writing  a  few 
words  on  each  with  a  preoccupied  air. 

"  Nothing,  your  Excellency,  except  that  we  are  still  ex- 
pecting my  noble  master,  about  whom  I  see  the  general 
is  anxious." 

The  general  rose  from  his  big  writing-table,  and  looked 
at  Poel  somewhat  angrily. 

"  Your  eyes  are  very  poor,  Poel.  I,  anxious  about 
Ordener,  indeed !  I  know  the  reason  for  his  absence ;  I 
do  not  expect  him  yet." 

General  Levin  de  Knud  was  so  jealous  of  his  authority 
that  he  would  have  considered  it  compromised  had  a 
subaltern  been  able  to  guess  his  secret  thoughts,  and  learn 
that  Ordener  had  acted  without  his  orders. 

"  Poel,"  he  added,  "  you  may  go." 

The  servant  left  the  room. 

"  Eeally,"  exclaimed  the  general  when  he  was  left  alone, 
"Ordener  uses  and  abuses  his  privileges.  A  blade  too 
often  bent  will  break.  To  make  me  spend  a  night  in 
sleepless  impatience !  To  expose  General  Levin  to  the 
sarcasms  of  a  chancellor's  wife  and  the  conjectures  of  a 
servant !  And  all  this  that  an  aged  enemy  may  have  those 
first  greetings  which  are  due  to  an  old  friend  !  Ordener ! 
Ordener !  whims  are  destructive  of  liberty  1  Let  him 
come,  only  let  him  come  now,  deuce  take  me  if  I  don't 


124  HANS  OF  ICELAND. 

receive  him  as  gunpowder  does  fire,  —  I  *11  blow  him  up  I 
To  expose  the  governor  of  Throndhjem  to  a  servant's 
conjectures  and  a  she-chancellor's  sarcasms!  Let  him 
come ! " 

The  general  went  on  making  marginal  notes  on  his 
papers  without  reading  them,  so  all-absorbing  was  his 
ill-temper. 

"  General !  my  noble  father ! "  cried  a  familiar  voice ; 
and  Ordener  clasped  in  his  arms  the  old  man,  who  did  not 
even  try  to  repress  a  cry  of  joy. 

"  Ordener,  my  good  Ordener  1  Zounds !  how  glad  I 
am ! "  He  collected  his  thoughts  in  the  middle  of  his 
phrase.  "  I  am  glad.  Baron,  that  you  have  learned  to  con- 
trol your  feelings.  You  seem  pleased  to  see  me  again. 
It  was  probably  to  mortify  your  flesh,  that  you  deprived 
yourself  of  that  pleasure  for  a  whole  day  and  night." 

"  Father,  you  have  often  told  me  that  an  unfortunate 
enemy  should  be  put  before  a  fortunate  friend.  I  come 
from  Munkholm." 

"  Of  course,"  said  the  general,  "  when  the  enemy's  mis- 
fortune is  imminent.     But  Schumacker's  future  —  " 

"  Looks  more  threatening  than  ever.  Noble  General, 
there  is  an  odious  plot  on  foot  against  that  unlucky  man. 
Men  born  his  friends,  would  ruin  him ;  a  man  born  his 
foe,  must  serve  him." 

The  general,  whose  face  had  gradually  cleared,  inter- 
rupted Ordener. 

"  Very  good,  my  dear  Ordener,  But  what  are  you  talk- 
ing about  ?  Schumacker  is  under  my  protection.  What 
men?    What  plots?" 


HANS  OF  ICELAND.  126 

Ordener  could  scarcely  have  replied  plainly  to  this 
question.  He  had  but  very  vague  gleams  of  light,  very 
uncertain  suspicions  as  to  the  position  of  the  man  for 
whom  he  was  about  to  expose  his  life.  Many  will  think 
that  he  acted  foolishly ;  but  young  hearts  do  what  they 
think  right  by  instinct,  and  not  frbm  calculation  ;  and  ' 
besides,  in  this  world,  where  prudence  is  so  barren  and 
wisdom  so  caustic,  who  denies  that  generosity  is  folly? 
All  is  relative  on  earth,  where  all  is  limited;  and  vir- 
tue would  be  the  greatest  madness  if  there  were  no  God 
behind  man.  Ordener  was  at  the  age  to  believe  and 
to  be  believed.  He  risked  his  life  trustingly.  Even  the 
general  accepted  reasons  which  would  not  have  borne 
calm  discussion. 

"  What  plots  ?  What  men  ?  Good  father,  in  a  few 
days  I  shall  have  solved  the  mystery;  then  you  shall 
know  all  that  I  know.     I  must  start  off  again  to-night." 

"What!"  cried  the  old  man,  "  can  you  spare  me  but  a 
few  hours  ?  Where  are  you  going  ?  Why  are  you  going, 
my  dear  son  ? " 

"  You  have  sometimes  allowed  me,  my  noble  father,  to 
perform  a  praiseworthy  act  in  secret" 

"  Yes,  my  brave  boy ;  but  you  are  going  without  knowv 
ing  why,  and  you  know  what  an  important  affair  requires 
your  presence  here." 

"My  father  has  given  me  a  month  to  consider  the 
matter,  and  I  shall  devote  that  time  to  the  interests  of 
another.  A  good  deed  is  often  fruitful  in  good  advice. 
Besides,  we  will  see  about  it  on  my  return." 

"How!"  anxiously  asked  the  general ;" don't  you  like 


126  HANS  OF  ICELAND. 

this  match?  They  say  that  inrica  d'Ahlefeld  is  very 
beautiful.     Tell  me,  have  you  seen  her  ? " 

"  I  believe  I  have,"  said  Ordener.  "  Yes,  I  believe  that 
she  is  handsome." 

"  Well?"  rejoined  the  governor. 

"  Well,"  said  Ordener,  "  she  will  never  be  my  wife." 

These  cold,  decisive  words  startled  the  general  as  if  he 
had  received  a  violent  blow.  He  recalled  the  suspicions 
of  the  haughty  countess. 

"  Ordener,"  said  he,  shaking  his  head,  "  I  ought  to  be 
wise,  for  I  have  sinned.  Well,  I  am  nothing  but  an  old 
fool !     Ordener,  the  prisoner  has  a  daughter  —  " 

"  Oh,"  cried  the  young  man,  "  General,  I  wanted  to 
speak  to  you  of  her.  I  ask  your  protection,  father,  for 
that  helpless  and  oppressed  young  girl." 

"  Indeed,"  said  the  governor,  gravely,  "  your  request  is 
urgent." 

Ordener  recovered  himself. 

"  And  why  should  it  not  be  urgent  for  a  poor  captive 
whose  life,  and,  what  is  far  more  precious,  her  honor,  is 
in  danger?" 

"  Life  !  honor  I  Why,  I  stUl  govern  here,  and  I  know 
nothing  of  all  these  horrors !     Explain  yourself." 

"Noble  father,  the  lives  of  the  prisoner  and  his  de- 
fenceless daughter  are  threatened  by  an  infernal  plot." 

"  What  you  say  is  serious.    What  proofs  have  you  ?" 

"  The  oldest  son  of  a  powerful  family  is  even  now  at 
Munkholm.  He  is  there  to  seduce  Countess  Ethel;  he 
told  me  so  himself" 

The  general  started  back. 


HANS  OF  ICELAND.  127 

"Good  God!  Poor,  forlorn  creature!  Ordener,  Ordener, 
Ethel  and  Schumacker  are  under  my  protection.  Who  is 
this  wretch  ?     What  is  the  name  of  the  family  ? " 

Ordener  approached  the  general  and  wrung  his  hand. 

"  It  is  the  D'Ahlefeld  family." 

"  D'Ahlefeld  ! "  said  the  governor.  "  Yes,  it  is  all  clear. 
Lieutenant  Frederic  is  at  Munkholra  now.  My  noble 
Ordener,  would  they  marry  you  to  such  a  brood  !  I  un- 
derstand your  aversion,  Ordener." 

The  old  man,  folding  his  arms,  thought  for  some  mo- 
ments, then  clasped  Ordener  in  his  embrace. 

"Ordener,  you  may  go.  Your  friends  shall  not  lack 
protection ;  I  will  guard  them.  Yes,  go ;  you  are  per- 
fectly right.  That  infernal  Countess  d'Ahlefeld  is  here; 
did  you  know  it  ?  " 

"  The  noble  lady,  Countess  d'Ahlefeld,"  said  the  usher, 
opening  the  door. 

At  that  name,  Ordener  mechanically  withdrew  to  the 
back  of  the  room ;  and  the  countess,  entering  without  see- 
ing him,  exclaimed,  — 

"  General,  your  pupil  is  deceiving  you.  He  never  went 
to  Munkholm." 

"  Indeed  ? "  said  the  general 

"  Good  gracious,  no !  My  son  Frederic,  who  has  just  lef^ 
the  palace,  was  on  duty  yesterday  in  the  donjon,  and  he 
saw  no  one." 

"  Eeally,  noble  lady  ? "  repeated  the  general 

"  So,"  added  the  countess,  with  a  triumphant  smile^ 
"you  need  not  wait  for  your  Ordener  any  longer. 
General." 


128  HANS  OF  ICELAND. 

The  governor  was  cold  and  calm. 

"  I  am  no  longer  expecting  him,  Cotinttess,  it  is  true,*" 

"  General,"  said  the  countess,  tumicg,  "  I  thought  -fve 
were  alone.     Who  is  this  ?  ** 

The  countess  looked  searchingly  at  Ordener,  svho 
bowed. 

"  Really,"  she  continued,  "  I  never  saw  him  but  once ; 
stni,  if  it  were  not  for  that  dress,  I  should  say —  General, 
is  this  the  viceroy's  son  ? " 

"  Himselfj  noble  lady,"  said  Ordener,  with  another 
bow. 

The  countess  smiled. 

"  In  that  case,  permit  a  lady  who  will  soon  be  more 
closely  allied  to  you,  to  ask  where  you  were  yesterday. 
Count  ? " 

*'  Count !  I  do  not  think  that  T  am  so  unfortunate  as  to 
have  lost  my  noble  father  yet,  my  lady  countess." 

"  Certainly  not ;  that  was  not  my  meaning.  It  is  bet- 
ter to  become  a  count  by  taking  a  wife  than  by  losing 
a  father." 

"  One  is  no  better  than  the  other,  noble  lady." 

The  countess,  although  slightly  confused,  made  up  her 
mind  to  laugh  heartily. 

"  Come,  the  stories  that  I  have  heard  are  true.  Your 
manners  are  somewhat  boorish ;  but  you  will  grow  more 
used  to  accepting  gifts  from  fair  hands  when  Ulrica 
d'Ahlefeld  has  put  the  chain  of  the  Order  of  the  Elephant 
about  your  neck." 

"  A  chain  indeed ! "  said  Ordener. 

"You  will  see.  General^ Levin,"  resumed  the  countess. 


HANS  OF  ICELAND.  129 

whose  laugh  was  somewhat  forced,  "  that  your  intractable 
pupil  will  not  consent  to  receive  his  colonel's  brevet  from 
a  lady's  hand  either." 

"  You  are  right.  Countess,"  replied  Ordener ;  "  a  man 
who  wears  a  sword  ought  not  to  owe  his  epaulettes  to  a 
petticoat." 

The  great  lady's  face  darkentd. 

"  Ho !  ho !  whence  comes  the  baron  ?  Is  it  really  true 
that  your  Highness  was  not  at  Munkholm  yesterday  ? " 

"  Noble  lady,  I  do  not  always  satisfy  all  questions.  But, 
General,  you  and  I  will  meet  again." 

Then,  pressing  the  old  man's  hand  and  bowing  to  the 
countess,  he  quitted  the  room,  leaving  the  lady,  amazed  at 
the  extent  of  her  own  ignorance,  alone  with  the  governor, 
who  was  furious  at  the  amount  of  his  knowledge. 


VOL.  IX.— 9 


XIL 


The  fellow  tliat  sits  next  him  now,  parts  bread  with  him,  and  pledge* 
the  breath  of  him  in  a  divided  draught,  la  the  readiest  man  to  kill  him.  — 
Shak£SP£A££:  Timon  of  Athens. 


IF  the  reader  will  transport  himself  to  the  highway  lead- 
ing from  Throndhjem  to  Skongen,  a  narrow,  stony 
road  which  skirts  Throndhjem  Fjord  until  it  reaches  the 
village  of  Vygla,  he  will  not  fail  to  hear  the  footsteps  of 
two  travellers,  who  left  the  city  by  what  is  known  as 
Skongen  Gate,  at  nightfall,  and  are  rapidly  climbing  the 
range  of  hills  up  which  the  path  to  Vygla  winds.  Both 
are  wrapped  in  cloaks.  One  walks  with  a  firm,  youthful 
step,  his  body  erect  and  his  head  well  up ;  the  point  of  his 
sword  hangs  below  the  hem  of  his  cloak,  and  in  spite  of 
the  darkness,  we  see  the  plume  in  his  cap  waving  in  the 
breeza     The  other  is  rather  taller  than  his  companion,  but 


HANS  OF  ICELAND.  131 

slightly  bent ;  upon  his  back  is  a  hump,  doubtless  formecl 
by  a  wallet  which  is  hidden  by  his  large  black  mantle, 
whose  ragged  edges  bear  witness  to  its  long  and  faithful 
service.  His  only  weapon  is  a  stick,  with  which  he  sup- 
ports his  rapid  and  uneven  steps. 

If  darkness  prevent  our  reader  from  distinguishing  the 
featui'es  of  the  two  travellers,  he  may  perhaps  recognize 
them  by  the  conversation  which  one  of  them  opens  after 
an  hour  of  silent,  consequently  tedious  travel 

"  Master,  my  young  master  !  we  have  reached  the  point 
from  which  Vygla  tower  and  Throndbjem  spires  may  both 
be  seen  at  the  same  time.  Before  us,  on  the  horizon,  that 
black  mass  is  the  tower ;  behind  us  lies  the  cathedral ;  its 
flying  buttresses,  darker  still  against  the  sky,  stand  out 
like  the  skeleton  ribs  of  a  mammoth." 

"  Is  Vygla  far  from  Skongen  ?"  asked  the  other  wayfarer. 

"  We  have  to  cross  the  Ordals,  sir ;  we  shall  not  reach 
Skongen  before  three  o'clock  in  the  morning." 

"  What  hour  is  that  striking  now  ? " 

"  Good  heavens,  master !  you  make  me  shiver.  Yes, 
that  is  Throudhjem  clock ;  the  wind  brings  the  sound  to 
us.  That 's  a  sign  of  storm.  The  northwest  wind  brings 
clouds." 

"  In  truth,  the  stars  have  all  disappeared  behind  us." 

"Pray  let  us  make  hgiste,  my  noble  lord,  the  storm  is 
close  at  hand,  and  Gill's  corpse  and  my  escape  may 
already  have  been  discovered  in  the  city.  Let  us  make 
haste ! " 

"Willingly.  Old  man,  your  load  seems  heavy;  give  it 
to  me,  I  am  younger  and  stronger  than  you." 


132  HANS  OF  ICELAND. 

"No,  indeed,  noble  master;  it  is  not  for  the  eagle  to 
carry  the  shell  of  the  tortoise.  I  am  too  far  beneath  you 
for  you  to  burden  yourself  with  my  wallet." 

"  But,  old  man,  if  it  tires  you  ?  It  seems  heavy.  "What 
have  you  in  it  ?  Just  now  you  stumbled,  and  it  clinked 
as  if  there  were  iron  in  it." 

The  old  man  sprang  away  from  the  young  man. 

"It  clinked,  master?  Oh,  no!  you  are  mistaken.  It 
contains  nothing  —  but  food,  clothes.  No,  it  does  not  tire 
me,  sir." 

The  young  man's  friendly  offer  seemed  to  give  his  old 
comrade  a  fright  which  he  tried  to  disguise. 

"  Well,"  replied  the  young  man,  without  noticing  it,  "  if 
your  bundle  does  not  tire  you,  keep  it." 

The  old  man,  although  his  fears  were  set  at  rest,  made 
haste  to  change  the  conversation. 

"  It  is  hard  to  travel  by  night  as  fugitives,  over  a  road 
which  it  would  be  so  agreeable,  sir,  to  take  by  day  as 
observers  of  Nature.  On  the  shores  of  the  fjord,  to  our 
left,  are  a  quantity  of  Eunic  stones,  upon  which  may  be 
studied  inscriptions  traced,  they  say,  by  gods  and  giants. 
On  our  right,  behind  the  rocks  at  the  edge  of  the  road, 
lies  the  salt-marsh  of  Sciold,  which  undoubtedly  communi- 
cates with  the  sea  by  some  subterranean  passage ;  for  the 
sea  lobworm  is  caught  there,  that  strange  fish,  which,  as 
your  servant  and  guide  discovered,  eats  sand.  It  was  in 
the  Vygla  tower,  which  we  are  now  approaching,  that  the 
pagan  king  Vermond  roasted  the  breasts  of  Saint  Ethel- 
dreda,  that  glorious  martyr,  with  wood  from  the  true  cross, 
brought  to  Copenhagen  by  Olaf  III.,  and  conquered  from 


HANS  OF  ICELAND.  133 

him  by  the  Norwegian  king.  They  say  that  since  then 
repeated  attempts  have  been  made  to  turn  that  cursed 
tower  into  a  chapel ;  every  cross  placed  there,  is  consumed 
in  its  turn  by  fire  from  heaven." 

At  this  instant  a  tremendous  flash  of  lightning  covered 
the  fjord,  the  hill,  the  rocks,  the  tower,  and  faded  before 
the  two  travellers  could  distinguish  any  of  these  objects. 
They  instinctively  paused,  and  the  lightning  was  almost 
immediately  followed  by  a  violent  peal  of  thunder,  which 
echoed  from  cloud  to  cloud  across  the  sky,  and  from  rock 
to  rock  along  the  earth. 

They  raised  their  eyes.  All  the  stars  were  hidden, 
huge  clouds  rolled  rapidly  over  one  another,  and  the  tem- 
pest hung  like  an  avalanche  above  their  heads.  The  tre- 
mendous blast,  before  which  all  these  masses  fled,  had  not 
yet  descended  to  the  trees,  which  no  breath  stirred,  and 
upon  which  no  drop  of  rain  had  as  yet  fallen.  The  roar 
of  the  storm  was  heard  aloft,  and  this,  with  the  noise  of 
the  iQord,  was  the  only  sound  to  be  heard  in  the  darkness 
of  the  night,  made  doubly  dark  by  the  blackness  of  the 
tempest 

This  tumultuous  silence  was  suddenly  interrupted,  close 
beside  the  travellers,  by  a  growl  which  made  the  old  man 
tremble. 

"  Omnipotent  God ! "  he  cried,  grasping  the  young  man's 
arm,  "  that  is  either  the  laugh  of  the  Devil  in  the  storm,  or 
the  voice  of — " 

A  fresh  flash,  a  fresh  peal,  cut  short  his  words.  The 
tempest  then  burst  with  fury,  as  if  it  had  only  waited 
this  signal.     The  travellers  drew  their  cloaks  closer,  to 


184  HANS  OF   ICELAND. 

protect  themselves  alike  from  the  rain  falling  in  torrente 
from  tlie  clouds,  and  from  the  thick  dust  swept  in  whirl- 
winds from  the  dry  earth  by  a  howling  blast. 

"  Old  man,"  said  the  youth,  "  a  flash  of  lightning  just 
now  showed  me  Vygla  tower  on  our  right ;  let  us  leave  the 
path  and  seek  shelter  there." 

"  Shelter  in  the  Cursed  Tower !"  exclaimed  the  old  man ; 
"  may  Saint  Hospitius  protect  us  !  Think,  young  master ; 
that  tower  is  deserted." 

"  So  much  the  better,  old  man  !  We  shall  not  be  kept 
waiting  at  the  door." 

"  Think  of  the  abominable  act  which  polluted  it ! " 

"  Well,  let  it  purify  itself  by  sheltering  us.  Come,  old 
man,  follow  me.  I  tell  you  that  on  such  a  night  I  would 
test  the  hospitality  of  a  den  of  thieves." 

Then,  in  spite  of  the  old  man's  remonstrances,  he 
grasped  his  arm  and  hastened  toward  the  building,  which, 
as  the  frequent  flashes  showed  him,  was  close  at  hand. 
As  they  approached,  they  saw  a  light  in  one  of  the  loop- 
holes of  the  tower. 

"  You  see,"  said  the  young  man,  "  that  this  tower  is  not 
deserted.     You  feel  easier  now,  no  doubt." 

"  Oh,  my  God !  my  God ! "  cried  the  old  man,  "  where 
are  you  taking  me,  master  ?  Saint  Hospitius  forbid  that  I 
should  enter  that  oratory  of  the  Devil ! " 

They  had  now  reached  the  foot  of  the  tower.  The 
young  traveller  knocked  loudly  at  the  new  door  of  this 
much  dreaded  ruin. 

"  Calm  yourself,  old  man.  Some  pious  hermit  has  come 
hither  to  sanctify  this  profane  abode  by  dwelling  in  it." 


HANS  OF  ICELAND.  135 

"1^0,"  said  his  comrade,  "I  will  not  enter.  I'll  answei 
for  it  that  no  monk  can  live  here,  unless  he  has  one  of 
Beelzebub's  seven  chains  for  a  chaplet." 

However,  a  light  had  descended  from  one  narrow  win- 
dow to  another,  and  now  shone  through  the  key-hole. 

"  You  are  very  late,  Nychol ! "  cried  a  sharp  voice ;  "  the 
gallows  was  erected  at  noon,  and  it  takes  but  six  hours 
to  come  from  Skongen  to  Vyglc^  Did  you  have  an  extra 
job?" 

These  questions  were  asked  just  as  the  door  was  opened. 
The  woman  who  opened  it,  seeing  two  strange  faces  in- 
stead of  the  one  which  she  expected,  uttered  a  frightened, 
threatening  shriek,  and  started  back. 

Her  appearance  was  by  no  means  reassuring.  She  was 
tall ;  she  held  above  her  head  an  iron  lamp,  which  threw 
a  bright  light  upon  her  face.  Her  livid  features,  her 
bony,  angular  figure,  were  corpse-like,  and  her  hollow 
eyes  emitted  ominous  flashes  like  those  of  a  funeral  torch. 
She  wore  a  red  serge  petticoat,  reaching  to  her  bare  feet, 
and  apparently  stained  in  spots  with  deeper  red.  Her 
fleshless  breast  was  half  covered  by  a  man's  jacket  of  the 
same  color,  the  sleeves  of  which  were  cut  off  at  the  elbow. 
The  wind,  coming  in  at  the  open  door,  blew  about  her 
(head  her  long  gray  hair,  which  was  insecurely  fastened 
with  a  strip  of  bark,  and  hnt  an  added  ferocity  to  her 
savage  face. 

"  Good  lady,"  said  the  younger  of  the  new-comers,  "  the 
rain  falls  in  floods ;  you  have  a  roof,  and  we  have  gold." 

His  aged  comrade  plucked  him  by  the  cloak,  whispering, 
"  Oh,  master,  what  are  you  saying  ?     If  this  be  not  the 


136  HANS  OF  ICELAND. 

abode  of  the  Devil,  it  is  the  habitation  of  some  robber. 
Our  money,  instead  of  protecting  us,  will  be  our  ruin." 

"  Hush ! "  said  the  young  man ;  and  drawing  a  purse 
from  his  bosom,  he  displayed  it  to  his  hostess,  repeating 
his  request  as  he  did  so. 

The  woman,  recovering  from  her  surprise,  studied  them 
in  turn  with  fixed  and  haggard  eyes. 

"  Strangers,"  she  cried  at  last,  as  if  she  had  not  heard 
their  voices,  "have  your  guardian  angels  forsaken  you? 
What  would  you  with  the  cursed  inhabitants  of  the 
Cursed  Tower  ?  Strangers,  they  were  no  mortals  who  sent 
you  here  for  shelter,  or  they  would  have  told  you :  Better 
are  the  lightning  and  the  storm  than  the  hearth  within 
Vygla  tower.  The  only  living  man  who  may  enter  here, 
enters  the  abode  of  no  other  human  being ;  he  only  leaves 
solitude  for  a  crowd ;  he  lives  only  by  death ;  he  has  no 
place  save  in  the  curses  of  men;  he  serves  their  ven- 
geance only;  he  exists  by  their  crimes  alone ;  and  the  vilest 
criminal,  in  the  hour  of  his  doom,  vents  on  him  the  uni- 
versal scorn,  and  feels  that  he  has  a  right  to  add  to  it  his 
own  contempt.  Strangers!  You  must  indeed  be  stran- 
gers, for  your  foot  does  not  yet  shrink  with  horror  from 
the  threshold  of  this  tower.  Disturb  no  longer  the  she-wolf 
and  her  cubs ;  return  to  the  road  travelled  by  the  rest  of 
mankind,  and  if  you  would  not  be  shunned  by  your  fellows, 
do  not  tell  them  that  your  face  ever  caught  the  rays  of  the 
lamp  of  the  dwellers  in  "Vygla  tower."  With  these  words, 
pointing  to  the  door,  she  advanced  toward  the  two  trav- 
ellers. The  old  man  trembled  in  every  limb,  and  looked 
imploringly  at  the  young  man,  who,  understanding  noth- 


HANS  OF  ICELAND.  187 

ing  of  the  tall  woman's  words  because  of  the  great  ra- 
pidity of  her  speech,  thought  her  crazy,  and  was  in  no 
wise  disposed  to  go  out  again  into  the  rain,  which  still 
fell  heavily. 

"Faith,  good  hostess,  you  describe  a  strange  char- 
acter, whose  acquaintance  I  would  not  lose  this  chance  of 
making." 

"His  acquaintance,  young  man,  is  soon  made,  sooner 
ended.  If  your  evil  spirit  urge  you  to  seek  it,  go  kill 
some  living  man,  or  profane  the  dead." 

"Profane  the  dead!"  repeated  the  old  man,  in  a  fal- 
tering voice,  hiding  himself  in  his  companion's  shadow. 

"  I  scarcely  comprehend,"  the  latter  said,  "  your  sugges- 
tions, which  seem  somewhat  indirect ;  it  is  shorter  to  stay 
here.  No  one  but  a  madman  would  continue  his  journey 
in  such  weather." 

"  Unhappy  man ! "  exclaimed  the  woman,  "  do  not  knock 
at  the  door  of  one  who  can  open  no  door  save  that  of  the 
tomb." 

"  And  if  the  door  of  the  tomb  should  indeed  open  for 
me  with  that  of  your  abode,  woman,  it  shall  not  be  said 
that  I  shrank  from  an  ill-omened  word.  My  sword  is  my 
safeguard.  Come,  close  the  door,  for  the  wind  is  cold, 
and  take  this  money." 

"  Bah !  what  is  your  money  to  me  ! "  rejoined  their 
hostess ;  ''precious  in  your  hands,  in  mine  it  would  become 
more  vile  than  pewter.  Well,  stay  if  you  will,  and  give 
me  the  gold.  It  may  protect  you  from  the  storms  of 
Heaven ;  it  cannot  save  me  from  the  scorn  of  men.  Nay ; 
you  pay  a  higher  price  for  hospitality  than  others  pay  for 


138  HANS  OF  ICELAND. 

murder.  Wait  here  an  instant,  and  give  me  your  gold. 
Yes,  it  is  the  first  time  that  a  man's  hands  have  entered 
here  filled  with  gold,  without  being  stained  with  blood." 

So  saying,  aftei'  putting  down  her  lamp  and  barricading 
the  door,  she  disappeared  beneath  the  arch  of  a  dark  stair- 
case built  at  the  back  of  the  room. 

While  the  old  man  shuddered,  and,  invoking  the  glorious 
Saint  Hospitius  under  every  name,  cordially,  but  in  an 
undertone,  cursed  his  young  companion's  imprudence,  the 
latter  took  the  light  and  surveyed  the  large  circular  apart- 
ment in  which  they  had  been  left.  What  he  saw  as  he 
approached  the  wall,  startled  him ;  and  the  old  man,  who 
had  watched  him  closely,  exclaimed,  — 

"  Good  God,  master !  a  gallows  ?  " 

A  tall  gallows,  in  fact,  rested  against  the  wall,  reaching 
to  the  keystone  of  the  damp,  high,  arched  roof. 

"  Yes,"  said  the  young  man,  "  and  here  are  saws  of  wood 
and  iron,  chains  and  iron  collars ;  here  is  a  rack,  and  huge 
pincers  hanging  over  it." 

"  Holy  saints  of  Paradise ! "  cried  the  old  man ;  "  where 
are  we  ? " 

The  young  man  calmly  went  on  with  his  inspection. 

"This  is  a  roll  of  hempen  cord;  here  are  furnaces  and 
caldrons ;  this  part  of  the  wall  is  covered  with  tongs  and 
scalpels ;  here  are  leathern  whips  with  steel  tips,  an  axe 
and  a  mace." 

"  This  must  be  the  wardrobe  of  hell ! "  interrupted  the 
old  man,  terrified  by  this  dreadful  catalogue. 

*  Here,"  continued  the  other,  "  are  copper  screws,  wheels 
with  teeth  of  bronze,  a  box  of  huge  nails,  and  a  lever.    In 


HANS  OF  ICELAND.  139 

truth,  these  are  sorry  furnishings.  It  may  seem  to  you 
hard  that  my  impatience  sliould  have  brought  you  hither 
with  rae." 

"  Eeally,  you  agree  to  that ! " 

The  old  man  was  more  dead  than  alive. 

"Do  not  be  frightened.  What  matters  it  where  you 
are  ?     I  am  with  you." 

"  A  fine  protection ! "  muttered  the  old  man,  whose  in- 
creasing terror  modified  his  fear  and  respect  for  his  young 
companion ;  "  a  sword  three  feet  long  against  a  gibbet  nine 
feet  high ! " 

The  big,  red  woman  returned,  and  again  taking  up  the 
iron  lamp,  beckoned  to  the  travellers  to  follow  her.  They 
cautiously  climbed  a  narrow,  rickety  flight  of  stairs  built 
in  the  thickness  of  the  tower  wall.  At  each  loop-hole  a 
blast  of  wind  and  rain  threatened  to  extinguish  the  quiv- 
ering flame  of  the  lamp,  which  their  hostess  shielded  with 
her  long,  transparent  hands.  After  stumbling  more  than 
once  upon  a  rolling  stone,  in  which  the  old  man's  alarmed 
fancy  saw  human  bones  scattered  over  the  stairs,  they 
reached  the  next  floor,  and  found  themselves  in  a  circular 
hall  like  the  one  below.  In  the  centre,  according  to 
Gothic  custom,  burned  a  huge  fire,  the  smoke  of  which 
escaped  through  a  hole  in  the  roof,  but  not  without  per- 
ceptibly obscuring  the  atmosphere  of  the  hall.  It  was  the 
light  from  this  fire,  combined  with  that  of  the  iron  lamp, 
which  had  caught  the  notice  of  the  two  wayfarers.  A 
spit,  loaded  with  fresh-killed  meat,  revolved  before  the 
flames.     The  old  man  turned  from  it  in  disgust. 

"It  was  upon  that  execrable  hearth,"  said  he  to  hii 


140  HANS  OF  ICELAND. 

comrade,  "  that  the  embers  of  the  true  cross  consumed  the 
limbs  of  a  saint."  A  rude  table  stood  some  distance  away 
from  the  fire.  The  woman  invited  the  travellers  to  be 
seated  at  it. 

"Strangers,"  said  she,  placing  the  lamp  before  them, 
"supper  will  soon  be  ready,  and  my  husband  will  prob- 
ably make  haste  to  get  here,  for  fear  the  midnight  ghost 
should  carry  him  off  as  it  passes  the  Cursed  Tower." 

Ordener  —  for  the  reader  has  doubtless  already  guessed 
that  he  and  his  guide,  Benignus  Spiagudry,  were  the  two 
travellers  —  could  now  examine  at  his  leisure  the  strange 
disguise,  in  the  concoction  of  which  Benignus  had  ex- 
hausted all  the  resources  of  his  fertile  fancy,  spurred  on  by 
a  dread  of  recognition  and  capture.  The  poor  fugitive 
had  exchanged  his  reindeer-skin  garments  for  a  full  suit 
of  black,  left  at  the  Spladgest  by  a  famous  Throndhjem 
grammarian,  who  drowned  himself  in  despair  because  he 
could  not  find  out  why  "  Jupiter  "  changed  to  "  Jovis  "  in 
the  genitive.  His  wooden  shoes  gave  place  to  a  stout 
pair  of  postilion  boots,  whose  owner  had  been  killed  by 
his  horses,  in  which  his  slender  shanks  had  so  much  spare 
room  that  he  could  not  have  walked  without  the  aid  of 
half  a  truss  of  hay.  The  huge  wig  of  an  elegant  young 
Frenchman,  slain  by  thieves  just  outside  the  city  gates, 
concealed  his  bald  pate  and  floated  over  his  sharp,  crooked 
shoulders.  One  of  his  eyes  was  covered  with  a  plaster, 
and,  thanks  to  a  pot  of  paint  which  he  had  found  in  the 
pocket  of  an  old  maid  who  died  of  disappointed  love, 
his  pale,  hollow  cheeks  were  tinged  with  an  unwonted 
crimson,  an  ornament  which  the  rain  had  now  divided 


HANS  OF  ICELAND.  141 

with  his  chin.  Before  seating  himself,  he  carefully  placed 
beneath  him  the  pack  which  he  carried  on  his  back,  first 
wrapping  it  in  his  old  mantle,  and  while  he  absorbed  his 
comrade's  entire  attention,  all  his  thoughts  seemed  centred 
in  the  roast  which  his  hostess  was  watching,  toward  which 
he  cast  ever  and  anon  a  glance  of  anxiety  and  alarm. 
Broken  ejaculations  fell  from  his  lips  at  intervals; 

"Human  flesh!  Horridas  epulas!  Cannibals!  A 
feast  for  Moloch  1  Ne  pueros  coram  jpopulo  Medea  truci' 
det!  Where  are  we?  —  Atreus — Druidess — Irmensul — 
The  Devil  struck  Lycaon  with  lightning  —  "  Finally  he 
exclaimed :  "  Good  Heavens  1  God  be  thanked  1  I  see 
a  taH!" 

Ordener,  who,  having  watched  and  listened  attentively, 
had  closely  followed  the  train  of  his  thoughts,  could  not 
help  smiling. 

"  That  tail  need  not  comfort  you.  It  may  be  the  Devil's 
hind  quarter." 

Spiagudry  did  not  hear  this  pleasantry.  His  eyes  were 
riveted  on  the  back  of  the  room.  He  trembled,  and 
whispered  in  Ordener's  ear, — 

"Master,  look  yonder,  on  that  heap  of  straw,  in  the 
shadow ! " 

"Well,  what  is  it?"  said  Ordener. 

"Three  naked  bodies, — the  corpses  of  three  children!" 

"Some  one  is  knocking  at  the  door,"  cried  the  red 
woman,  who  was  squatting  by  the  fire. 

In  fact,  a  knock,  followed  by  two  louder  raps,  was  heard 
above  the  ever-increasing  din  of  the  storm. 

"  It  is  he  at  last  I    It  is  Nychol  1 " 


142  HANS  OF  ICELAND. 

And  seizing  the  lamp,  their  hostess  hurried  downstairs. 

The  two  travellers  had  not  had  time  to  resume  their  con- 
versation, when  they  heard  a  confused  murmur  of  voices 
below,  in  the  midst  of  which  they  caught  these  words, 
uttered  in  a  voice  which  made  Spiagudry  start  and  shiver : 

"Be  quiet,  woman;  we  shall  stay.  The  thunderbolt 
enters  without  waiting  for  the  door  to  be  opened." 

Spiagudry  pressed  closer  to  Ordener. 

"  Master,  master,"  he  quavered,  "  we  are  lost !  " 

The  sound  of  footsteps  was  heard  on  the  stairs,  and  two 
men  in  ecclesiastic  dress  entered  the  room,  followed  by 
the  startled  hostess. 

One  of  these  men  was  tall,  and  wore  the  black  gown 
and  close-clipped  hair  of  a  Lutheran  minister ;  the  other 
was  shorter,  and  wore  a  hermit's  robe  tied  with  a  girdle  of 
rope.  The  hood  drawn  over  his  face  concealed  all  but  his 
long  black  beard,  and  his  hands  were  entirely  hidden  by 
his  flowincr  sleeves. 

When  he  saw  these  two  peaceful  strangers,  Spiagudry 
recovered  from  the  terror  which  the  peculiar  voice  of  one 
of  them  had  caused. 

"  Don't  be  alarmed,  my  good  lady,"  said  the  minister. 
*'  Christian  ministers  do  good  even  to  those  who  injure 
them  ;  why  should  they  harm  those  who  help  them  ? 
We  humbly  beg  for  shelter.  If  the  reverend  gentleman 
with  me  spoke  harshly  to  you  just  now,  he  was  wrong  to 
forget  the  gentle  voice  recommended  to  us  in  our  ordina- 
tion vows.  Alas  !  the  most  saintly  may  err.  I  lost  my 
way  on  the  road  from  Skongen  to  Throndhjem,  and  could 
find  no  guide  through  the  darkness,  no  shelter  from  the 


HANS  OF  ICELAND.  148 

storm.  This  reverend  brother,  whom  I  encountered,  being 
like  myself  far  from  home,  deigned  to  allow  me  to  accom- 
pany him  hither.  He  praised  your  kind  hospitality,  dear 
lady  ;  doubtless  he  was  not  mistaken.  Do  not  say  to  us, 
like  the  wicked  shepherd,  'Advene,  cur  intrcisV  Take 
us  in,  worthy  hostess,  and  God  will  save  your  crops  from 
the  storm,  God  will  protect  your  flocks  from  the  tem- 
pest, as  you  give  a  refuge  to  travellers  who  have  gone 
astray ! " 

"  Old  man,"  broke  in  the  woman  in  a  fierce  voice,  **  I 
have  neither  crops  nor  flocks." 

"  Well,  if  you  are  poor,  God  blesses  the  poor  more  than 
the  rich.  You  and  your  husband  shall  live  to  a  good  old 
age,  respected,  not  for  your  wealth,  but  for  your  virtues  ; 
your  children  shall  grow  up  blessed  in  the  esteem  of  all 
men,  and  be  what  their  father  was  before  them." 

"  Silence  ! "  cried  the  hostess.  "  If  they  continue  to  be 
what  we  are,  our  children  must  grow  old  as  we  have, 
scorned  by  all,  —  a  scorn  handed  down  from  generation 
to  generation.  Silence,  old  man  1  Your  blessing  turns  to 
curses  on  our  heads." 

"  Heavens  ! "  returned  the  minister,  "  who  then  are  you  T 
Amid  what  crimes  do  you  pass  your  life  ? " 

"  What  do  you  call  crime  ?  What  do  you  call  virtue  ? 
We  enjoy  one  privilege,  —  we  can  possess  no  virtue  and 
commit  no  crime." 

"  The  woman's  reason  wanders,"  said  the  minister,  turn- 
ing to  the  little  hermit,  who  was  drying  his  coarse  robe 
before  the  fire. 

**  No,  priest ! "  replied  the  woma/i.     "  Learn  where  you 


144  HANS  OF  ICELAND. 

are.  I  would  rather  inspire  horror  than  pity.  I  am  not 
mad,  but  the  wife  of — " 

A  prolonged  and  violent  knocking  at  the  door  drowned 
her  words,  to  the  great  disappointment  of  Spiagudry  and 
Ordener,  who  had  silently  listened  to  the  dialogue. 

"  Cursed,"  muttered  the  red  woman,  "  be  the  mayor  and 
council  of  Skongen,  who  gave  us  this  tower  so  near  the 
high-road  for  our  dwelling  I  Perhaps  that  is  not  Nychol, 
now." 

StiU,  she  took  up  the  lamp. 

"  After  all,  if  it  be  another  traveller,  what  matters  it  ? 
The  brook  can  flow  where  the  torrent  has  passed.'* 

The  four  travellers,  left  alone,  examined  each  other  by 
the  firelight.  Spiagudry,  terrified  at  first  by  the  hermit's 
voice,  and  then  reassured  by  his  black  beard,  might  have 
trembled  afresh  if  he  had  seen  the  piercing  eye  with  which 
the  monk  observed  him  from  beneath  his  cowL 

In  the  general  silence  the  minister  ventured  a  question : 
"  Brother  monk,  I  presume  that  you  are  one  of  the 
Catholic  priests  who  escaped  from  the  last  persecution, 
and  that  you  were  returning  to  your  retreat  when  I  was 
fortunate  enough  to  meet  you.  Can  you  tell  me  where  we 
are  ? " 

The  broken  door  of  the  ruined  staircase  opened  before 
the  hermit  could  answer. 

"  "Woman,  let  a  storm  but  burst,  and  there  is  always  a 
crowd  to  sit  at  our  hated  board  and  take  shelter  beneath 
our  accursed  roof." 

"  Nychol,"  replied  the  wife,  "  I  could  not  help  it ! " 

"  What  do  I  care  how  many  guests  you  have,  provided 


HANS  OF  ICELAND.  145 

they  pay  ?  Money  is*  as  well  earned  by  lodging  a  traveller 
as  by  strangling  a  thief." 

The  speaker  paused  at  the  door,  and  the  four  strangers 
had  ample  opportunity  to  examine  him.  He  was  a  man 
of  colossal  size,  dressed,  like  their  hostess,  in  red  serge. 
His  enormous  head  seemed  to  rest  directly  upon  his  broad 
shoulders,  in  strong  contrast  with  his  gracious  lady's  long, 
bony  neck.  He  had  a  low  forehead,  flat  nose,  and  thick 
eyebrows ;  his  eyes,  rimmed  with  red,  shone  Hke  burning 
coals  in  a  pool  of  blood.  The  lower  part  of  his  face  was 
shaved  smooth,  exposing  his  big  mouth,  whose  black  lips 
were  parted  in  a  hideous  grin,  like  the  gaping  edges  of  a 
never-healing  wound.  Two  wisps  of  frizzled  beard,  ex- 
tending from  his  cheeks  to  his  chin,  made  his  face  seem 
square  when  seen  from  the  front.  He  wore  a  gray  felt  hat, 
which  dripped  with  rain,  and  which  he  did  not  deign  to 
remove  in  the  presence  of  the  four  travellers. 

As  he  looked  at  him,  Benignus  Spiagudry  uttered  a 
cry  of  fright,  and  the  Lutheran  minister  turned  away, 
struck  with  horror  and  surprise ;  while  the  master  of 
the  house,  recognizing,  addressed  him  thus :  "  What,  are 
you  here,  minister!  Indeed,  I  did  not  expect  to  have 
the  pleasure  of  seeing  your  scared  and  woebegone  face 
again  to-day." 

The  priest  mastered  his  first  feeling  of  repulsion.  His 
face  became  serious  and  serene. 

"  And  I,  my  son,  rejoice  at  the  chance  M-hich  has 
brought  together  the  shepherd  and  the  lost  sheep,  to  the 
end,  no  doubt,  that  the  sheep  may  return  to  the  fold." 

"  Ah,  by  Haman's  gibbet,"  rejoined  the  other  with  a 

VOL.  IX. — 10 


146  HANS  OF  ICELAND. 

loud  laugh,  "  this  is  the  first  time  that  ever  I  was  com- 
pared to  a  sheep  1  Believe  me,  Father,  if  you  would  flatter 
the  vulture,  you  must  not  call  him  a  dove." 

"  He  who  can  change  the  vulture  to  a  dove,  consoles, 
my  son,  and  does  not  flatter.  You  think  that  I  fear  you, 
and  I  only  pity  you  1 " 

"You  must  indeed  have  a  goodly  store  of  pity.  I 
should  have  fancied  that  you  had  exhausted  it  all  on  that 
poor  devil  to  whom  you  displayed  your  cross  this  morning 
in  the  hope  of  hiding  my  gallows  from  his  eyes." 

"  That  unfortunate  man,"  replied  the  priest,  "  was  less 
to  he  pitied  than  you ;  for  he  wept,  and  you  laugh. 
Happy  is  he  who  learns  in  the  moment  of  atonement  how 
much  less  powerful  is  man's  arm  than  the  word  of  God  ! " 

"  Well  said.  Father ! "  replied  the  host,  with  a  horrid  and 
ironical  mirth.  "  Happy  is  he  who  weeps  I  That  fellow 
to-day,  moreover,  had  no  other  fault  than  that  of  loving 
the  king  so  much  that  he  could  not  live  without  making 
his  Majesty's  picture  upon  little  copper  medals,  which  he 
then  gilded  artistically  to  render  them  more  worthy  of  the 
royal  effigy.  Our  gracious  sovereign  was  not  ungrateful, 
and  rewarded  him  for  such  a  display  of  affection  with  a 
fine  hempen  decoration,  which,  let  me  inform  my  worthy 
guests,  was  conferred  upon  him  this  very  day,  in  Skongen 
market-place,  hy  me,  lord  chancellor  of  the  Order  of  the 
Gibbet,  assisted  by  this  gentleman  here  present,  grand 
chaplain  of  the  said  order." 

"  Stop,  wretched  man ! "  broke  in  the  priest.  "  How 
can  he  who  punishes  forget  that  punishment  awaits  us 
all?    Listen  to  the  thunder  —  " 


HANS  or  ICELAND.  147 

**  "Well,  what  is  thunder  ?    Satan's  laughter.** 

"Good  God,  he  has  just  looked  on  death,  and  he 
blasphemes  1 " 

"  A  truce  to  your  sermons,  old  fool !  **  cried  the  host,  in 
a  loud,  angry  tone,  "  unless  you  would  curse  the  angel  of 
darkness  who  has  brought  us  together  twice  in  one  day,  in 
the  same  carriage  and  under  the  same  roof.  Imitate  your 
friend  the  hermit,  who  is  silent,  for  he  longs  to  be  back 
again  in  his  cave  at  Lynrass.  I  thank  you,  brother  monk, 
for  the  blessing  which  I  see  you  bestow  upon  the  Cursed 
Tower  every  morning  as  you  cross  the  hill ;  but  the  fact  is 
that  you  always  seemed  tall  to  me  until  now,  and  that 
black  beard  of  yours  looked  white.  Are  you  sure  that 
you  are  the  hermit  of  Lynrass,  —  the  only  hermit  in  the 
province  of  Throndhjem  ?  " 

"  I  am  the  only  one,**  said  the  hermit  in  a  hollow 
voice. 

"  We  are,  then,"  rejoined  his  host,  "  the  two  recluses  of 
the  district  —  Hollo,  Becky,  make  haste  with  that  roast 
lamb,  for  I  am  hungry.  I  was  detained  at  Burlock  village 
by  that  confounded  Dr.  ManryU,  who  would  only  give 
me  twelve  escalins  for  the  corpse.  That  miserable  fel- 
low who  keeps  the  Throndhjem  Spladgest  gets  forty. 
Ha,  Master  Periwig,  what  *s  the  matter  with  you  ?  Are 
you  going  to  tumble  over  ?  By  the  way,  Becky,  have  you 
finished  the  skeleton  of  that  famous  magician,  Orgivius 
the  poisoner  ?  It  is  high  time  it  was  delivered  to  the 
Bergen  Museum.  Did  you  send  one  of  your  little  pigs 
to  the  mayor  of  Loevig  to  get  what  he  owes  me,  —  four 
double  crowns  for  boiling  a  witch  and  two  alchemists,  and 


148  HANS  OF  ICELAND. 

for  removing  several  chains  from  the  cross-beams  of  his 
tribunal,  which  they  disfigured  ;  twenty  escalins  for  hang- 
ing Ishmael  Typhaine,  a  Jew  against  whom  the  good  bishop 
entered  a  complaint ;  and  a  crown  for  putting  a  new 
wooden  arm  to  the  stone  gallows  of  the  tower." 

"  Your  wages,"  replied  his  wife  in  sour  tones,  "  remain 
in  the  mayor's  hands,  because  your  son  forgot  to  take  a 
wooden  spoon  to  receive  the  money,  and  none  of  the 
judge's  servants  were  willing  to  put  it  into  his  hand." 

The  husband  frowned. 

"  Only  let  their  necks  fall  into  my  hands,  and  they  shall 
see  whether  I  need  a  wooden  spoon  to  touch  them.  But 
we  must  manage  the  mayor  carefully,  for  it  is  to  him  that 
robber  Ivar  complained  that  he  was  put  to  the  rack  by 
me,  and  not  by  a  regular  executioner,  alleging  that,  as  he 
had  not  yet  been  tried,  he  was  not  upon  my  level.  By 
the  way,  wife,  do  keep  the  children  from  playing  with  my 
nippers  and  pincers ;  they  have  spoiled  all  my  tools,  so 
that  I  really  could  not  use  them  to-day.  Where  are  they, 
the  little  monsters  ? "  added  the  man,  going  up  to  the  heap 
of  straw  where  Spiagudry  had  fancied  that  he  saw  three 
dead  bodies.  "  Here  they  are  in  bed ;  they  sleep  through 
all  our  noise  as  soundly  as  if  they  had  been  hanged." 

From  these  words,  whose  grim  horror  was  in  strong 
contrast  with  the  speaker's  mirth  and  fierce,  frightful 
composure,  the  reader  will  have  guessed  who  was  the  in- 
habitant of  the  Vygla  tower.  Spiagudry,  who  upon  his 
first  appearance  recognized  him  from  having  often  seen 
him  act  in  his  official  capacity  in  the  Throndhjera  market- 
place, felt  ready  to  faint,  particularly  when  he  considered 


HANS  OF  ICELAND.  149 

his  own  powerful  personal  motive  for  dreading  this  awful 
personage.  He  leaned  over  to  Ordener,  and  said  in 
scarcely  articulate  tones,  "  It  is  Nychol  Orugix,  the  hang- 
man of  the  province  of  Throndhjem  1 " 

Ordener,  at  first  struck  with  horror,  shuddered,  and 
regretted  both  his  journey  and  the  storm.  But  soon 
a  peculiar  feeling  of  curiosity  took  possession  of  him, 
and  although  he  pitied  his  old  guide's  distress  and  terror, 
he  devoted  his  entire  attention  to  observing  the  speech 
and  manners  of  the  singular  being  before  him, — just 
as  a  man  might  listen  eagerly  to  the  growl  of  a  hyena 
or  the  roar  of  a  tiger,  brought  from  the  desert  to  one 
of  our  great  cities.  Poor  Benignus  was  far  from  being 
sufficiently  easy  in  his  mind  to  make  psychological  ob- 
servations. Hidden  behind  Ordener,  he  drew  his  mantle 
closely  about  him,  raised  a  restless  hand  to  his  plaster, 
pulled  the  back  of  his  loose  periwig  over  his  face,  and 
sighed  heavily. 

Meantime  the  hostess  had  dished  up  the  joint  of  roast 
lamb,  with  its  reassuring  tail,  on  a  large  earthen  platter. 
The  hangman  seated  himself  opposite  Ordener  and  Spia- 
gudry,  between  the  two  clergymen;  and  his  wife,  after 
putting  upon  the  table  a  jug  of  sweetened  beer,  a  piece 
of  rindebrod}  and  five  wooden  plates,  sat  down  by  the 
fire  and  busied  herself  in  sharpening  her  husband's  dull 
tools. 

"There,  reverend  sir,"  said  Orugix,  laughing;  "the  sheep 
offers  you  a  piece  of  lamb.  And  you.  Sir  Periwig,  was  it 
the  wind  that  blew  your  hair  over  your  face  ?  ** 

1  Bark  bread,  eaten  by  the  poorer  classes  in  Norway. 


150  HANS  OF  ICELAND. 

"  The  wind,  sir,  —  the  storm  —  "  stammered  the  trem- 
bling Spiagudry. 

**  Come,  pluck  up  a  spirit,  old  boy  !     You  see  that  these 

reverend  gentlemen  and  I  are  good  fellows.     Tell  us  who 

you  are,  and  who  your  silent  young  friend  is,  and  talk  a 

bit.     If  your  conversation  is  as  amusing  as  your  person,  it 

!  must  be  funny  indeed." 

"  Your  worship  jests,"  said  the  keeper,  pursing  his  lips, 
showing  his  teeth  and  winking,  to  make  himself  look 
merry.     "I  am  but  a  poor  old  man." 

"  Yes,"  interrupted  the  jovial  hangman,  "some  old  scien-" 
tist,  some  old  sorcerer." 

"  Oh,  my  lord  and  master,  a  scientist,  but  no  sorcerer !  " 

"  So  much  the  worse  ;  a  sorcerer  would  complete  our 
joyful  Sanhedrim.  Gentlemen  and  guests,  let  us  drink  to 
restore  this  old  sage's  speech,  so  that  he  may  enliven  us  at 
supper ;  the  health  of  the  man  we  hanged  to-day,  brother 
preacher  1    Well,  father  monk,  do  you  refuse  my  beer?" 

The  hermit  had,  indeed,  drawn  from  under  his  gown 
a  large  gourd  of  clear  water,  from  which  he  filled  his 
glass. 

"  Zounds,  hermit  of  Lynrass ! "  cried  the  hangman,  "  if 
you  will  not  taste  my  beer,  I  will  taste  the  water  which 
you  prefer  to  it." 

"  So  be  it,"  answered  the  hermit. 

"  First  take  off  your  glove,  worthy  brother,"  answered 
the  hangman.  "  Water  should  always  be  poured  with  the 
bare  hand." 

The  hermit  shook  his  head,  saying,  "  It  is  a  vow* 

"  Well,  then,  pour,"  said  the  hangman. 


HANS  OF  ICELAIO).  151 

Hardly  had  Orugix  raised  the  glass  to  his  lips  when  he 
set  it  down  hastily,  while  the  hermit  drained  his  at  a 
draught. 

"  By  the  Holy  Grail !  good  hermit,  what  is  that  infernal 
stuff?  I  have  not  drank  its  like  since  the  day  that  I 
came  near  drowning  in  my  voyage  from  Copenhagen  to 
Throndhjem.  Truly,  hermit,  that  is  no  water  from  Lynrass 
spring  ;  it  is  salt  water." 

"  Salt  water,"  repeated  Spiagudry,  his  terror  increasing 
as  he  looked  at  the  hermit's  glove. 

"  Well,  well ! "  said  the  hangman,  turning  toward  him 
with  a  loud  laugh;  "so  everything  alarms  you,  old  Ab- 
salom, —  even  to  the  drink  of  a  holy  monk  who  chooses 
to  mortify  his  flesh ! " 

"Alas,  no,  master!  But  salt  water —  There  is  but 
one  man  —  " 

"Come,  come,  you  don't  know  what  you  are  talking 
about,  sir  doctor ;  your  distress  must  be  caused  by  your 
bad  conscience,  or  else  you  despise  our  company." 

These  words,  uttered  in  a  humorous  tone,  reminded 
Spiagudry  that  he  must  needs  hide  his  fears.  To  mollify 
his  much-dreaded  host,  he  called  his  vast  memory  to  his 
aid,  and  summoned  up  all  the  presence  of  mind  which  was 
left  to  him. 

"  I  despise  you,  —  you,  my  lord  and  master  !  You, 
whose  presence  in  a  province  gives  that  province  the  me- 
rum  imperium  !  ^  You,  mighty  hangman,  the  executioner 
of  secular  vengeance,  the  sword  of  justice,  the  shield  of 
innocence !    Yon,  whom  Aristotle  in  the  sixth  book  and 

^  Blood  privilege,  the  right  to  hare  a  hangman. 


162  HANS   OF  ICELAND. 

last  chapter  of  his  '  Politics '  ranks  with  magistrates,  and 
whose  salary  Paris  de  Puteo,  in  his  treatise  *  De  Syndico/ 
fixes  at  five  gold  crowns,  as  this  passage  proves :  Quinque 
aureos  manivolto  !  You,  sir,  whose  Cronstadt  colleagues 
were  ennobled  when  the}'"  had  cut  off  three  hundred  heads, 
—  you,  whose  terrible  but  most  honorable  functions  are 
performed  with  pride  in  Franconia  by  the  most  recent 
bridegroom,  in  Keutlingen  by  the  youngest  of  the  city 
councillors,  in  Stedien  by  the  last-made  citizen !  And  do 
I  not  also  know,  good  master,  that  your  colleagues  in 
Prance  have  the  right  of  havadium  upon  every  leper, 
upon  pigs,  and  upon  cake  on  Epiphany  eve  ?  How  could 
I  fail  to  feel  the  deepest  respect  for  you  when  the  abbot 
of  Saint  Germain  des  Pr^s  gives  you  a  boar's  head  every 
year,  on  Saint  Vincent's  Day,  and  puts  you  at  the  head  of 
his  procession!" 

Here  the  keeper's  erudite  flow  of  fancy  was  abruptly 
cut  short  by  the  hangman. 

"  Upon  my  word,  this  is  the  first  that  I  have  heard  of  it. 
The  learned  abbot  of  whom  you  speak,  my  worthy  friend, 
has  hitherto  defrauded  me  of  all  these  fine  privileges 
which  you  describe  in  such  attractive  fashion.  —  Stran- 
gers," continued  Orugix,  "  aside  from  all  this  old  fool's 
extravagant  nonsense,  it  is  quite  true  that  I  have  missed 
my  career.  I  am  only  the  poor  hangman  of  a  poor  prov- 
ince. Well,  I  certainly  ought  to  have  done  better  than 
Stillison  Dickoy,  the  famous  hangman  of  Moscow.  Would 
you  believe  that  I  am  the  same  man  who  was  chosen 
twenty-four  years  ago  to  behead  Schumacker  ? " 

"  Schumacker,  Count  of  Grifienfeld ! "  exclaimed  Ordener. 


HANS  OF  ICELAND.  153 

"  Does  that  surprise  you,  Sir  Silent  ?  Yes,  that  selfsame 
Schumacker  who,  strange  to  say,  would  again  fall  into  my 
hands  should  it  please  the  king  to  recall  his  reprieve. 
Let  us  empty  this  jug,  gentlemen,  and  I  will  tell  you  how 
it  happens  that  after  so  brilliant  a  beginning  I  end  my 
career  so  miserably. 

"In  1676,  I  was  assistant  to  Ehum  Stuald,  the  royal 
hangman  at  Copenhagen,  At  the  time  of  Count  Griffen- 
feld's  sentence,  my  master  falling  iU,  I  was,  thanks  to  my 
powerful  patrons,  selected  to  act  in  his  place.  On  June  5, 
—  I  shall  never  forget  that  day,  —  at  five  o'clock  in  the 
morning,  assisted  by  the  carpenter,  I  erected  in  the  public 
square  a  huge  gallows,  which  we  hung  with  black,  out  of 
respect  for  the  prisoner.  At  eight,  the  king's  guards  sur- 
rounded the  scaffold,  and  the  Schleswig  Uhlans  kept  back 
the  crowd  that  thronged  the  square.  Who  would  not  have 
been  dazzled  in  my  place  ?  Erect,  and  sword  in  hand,  I 
stood  waiting  on  the  platform.  All  eyes  were  upon  me ; 
at  that  moment  I  was  the  most  important  personage  in 
the  two  kingdoms.  My  fortune,  thought  I,  is  made ;  for 
what  could  all  these  great  lords,  who  have  sworn  the 
chancellor's  ruin,  do  without  me  ?  I  already  regarded  my- 
self as  the  royal  hangman  of  the  town,  by  letters-patent ; 
I  had  servants  and  privileges  of  every  sort.  Just  listen ! 
The  clock  on  the  fortress  struck  ten.  The  prisoner  left 
his  cell,  crossed  the  square,  and  ascended  the  scaffold  with 
a  firm  step  and  calm  face.  I  wanted  to  tie  his  hair ;  he 
refused,  an  1  himself  performed  this  last  office.  '  It 's  a 
long  time,'  he  said  smilingly  to  the  prior  of  St.  An- 
drew's, "  ain  »e  I  dressed  my  own  hair.'    I  offered  him  the 


154  HANS  OF  ICELAND. 

black  bandage ;  be  declined  it  scornfully,  but  without 
showing  any  contempt  for  me.  'My  friend/  said  he, 
*  this  is  perhaps  the  first  time  on  record,  that  the  space  of 
a  few  feet  ever  held  the  two  officers  representing  the  ex- 
tremes of  the  law,  —  the  chancellor  and  the  executioner ! ' 
Those  words  have  remained  graven  on  my  memory.  He 
also  refused  the  black  cushion  which  I  would  have  given 
him  for  his  knees,  embraced  the  priest,  and  knelt,  after 
declaring  his  innocence  in  a  loud  voice.  Then  I  broke  his 
escutcheon  with  a  single  blow  of  my  mace,  crying  aloud, 
as  is  the  custom,  'This  is  not  done  without  just  cause!' 
This  affront  shook  the  count's  firm  bearing;  he  turned 
pale,  but  soon  mastered  himself  and  said,  *  The  king  gave 
me  my  arms ;  the  king  can  take  them  from  me ! '  He 
placed  his  head  on  the  block,  turned  his  eyes  toward  the 
east,  and  I  raised  my  sword  in  both  hands.  Now  listen ! 
At  that  instant  a  shout  fell  upon  my  ears,  — '  Pardon,  in 
the  king's  name  !  Pardon  for  Schumacker !  *  I  turned ; 
I  saw  a  royal  aide-de-camp  galloping  toward  the  gallows 
waving  a  parchment.  The  count  rose,  with  a  look  not  of 
pleasure,  but  of  satisfaction.  The  parchment  was  handed 
to  him.  '  Good  God  ! '  cried  he,  '  imprisonment  for  life ! 
Their  mercy  is  more  cruel  than  death.'  He  stepped, 
looking  like  a  thief,  from  the  scaffold  which  he  had 
mounted  so  serenely.  It  was  nothing  to  me.  I  had  no 
idea  that  this  man's  salvation  meant  my  ruin.  After 
removing  the  scaffold,  1  returned  to  my  master  still  full  of 
hope,  although  slightly  disappointed  at  losing  the  golden 
crown,  my  fee  for  removing  a  head.  That  was  not  alL 
Next  day  I  received  an  order  to  leave  the  city,  and  an  ap- 


.  HANS  OF  ICELAND.  165 

pointment  as  executioner  for  the  province  of  Throndhjem. 
A  provincial  hangman,  and  that  in  the  most  miserable 
province  of  Norway !  Now  you  shall  see,  gentlemen,  how 
small  causes  sometimes  bring  about  great  results.  The 
count's  enemies,  by  way  of  displaying  their  generosity, 
had  done  all  in  their  power  to  keep  back  the  pardon  until 
the  execution  was  over.  It  lacked  but  one  minute ;  they 
blamed  me  for  being  so  slow,  as  if  it  would  have  been 
decent  to  prevent  an  illustrious  man  from  amusing  him- 
self for  a  few  moments,  before  he  breathed  his  last !  As  if 
a  royal  executioner  beheading  a  lord  high  chancellor  could 
act  with  no  more  dignity  and  sense  of  proportion  than  a 
country  hangman  turning  off  a  Jew  !  Ill-will  was  added 
to  this.  I  had  a  brother ;  indeed,  I  think  I  have  one  stilL 
He  had  changed  his  name,  and  succeeded  in  finding  em- 
ployment in  the  house  of  the  new  chancellor.  Count 
d'Ahlefeld.  My  presence  in  Copenhagen  disturbed  the 
scoundrel.  My  brother  despised  me,  because  it  might 
some  time  fall  to  my  lot  to  hang  him." 

Here  the  fluent  narrator  stopped  to  give  vent  to  his 
mirth ;  then  he  went  on  :  — 

"You  see,  my  dear  guests,  that  I  made  the  best  of  it. 
The  deuce  take  ambition !  I  ply  my  calling  honestly.  I 
sell  my  dead  bodies,  or  Becky  turns  them  into  skele- 
tons, which  the  Bergen  anatomical  museum  buys.  I 
laugh  at  everything,  even  at  that  poor  woman  who  was 
a  gypsy,  and  whom  solitude  has  driven  mad.  My  three 
heirs  are  growing  up  in  the  fear  of  the  Devil  and  the 
gallows.  My  name  is  the  terror  of  all  the  children  in 
Throndhjem.     The  city  council  furnish  me  with  a  cart 


156  HANS  OF  ICELAND. 

and  red  clothes.  The  Cursed  Tower  protects  me  from 
rain  as  well  as  the  bishop's  palace  could  do.  Old  priests, 
driven  hither  by  a  storm,  preach  to  me;  learned  men 
fawn  upon  me.  In  fine,  I  am  as  happy  as  most  people ; 
I  drink,  eat,  hang,  and  sleep." 

The  hangman  did  not  close  this  long  speech  without  fre- 
quent interludes  of  beer  and  noisy  bursts  of  laughter. 

"  He  kills,  and  he  sleeps  I "  murmured  the  minister ; 
"  poor  wretch ! " 

"  What  a  lucky  fellow  the  rascal  is ! "  exclaimed  the 
hermit. 

"Yes,  brother  monk,"  said  the  hangman;  "just  as  much 
of  a  rascal  as  you  are,  but  assuredly  much  luckier.  You 
see,  the  business  would  be  a  capital  one  if  people  did  not 
seem  to  take  pleasure  in  cutting  down  my  profits.  Would 
you  believe  it,  some  great  wedding  has  just  afibrded  the 
chaplain  newly  appointed  to  Throndhjem  a  pretext  for 
asking  the  pardon  of  twelve  criminals  who  really  belonged 
to  me  ? " 

"  Belonged  to  you ! "  cried  the  minister. 

"  Yes,  to  be  sure.  Father.  Seven  of  them  were  sentenced 
to  be  whipped,  two  to  be  branded  on  the  left  cheek,  and 
three  to  be  hanged,  which  makes  twelve  in  all.  Yes, 
I  shall  lose  twelve  crowns  and  thirteen  escalins  if  the 
pardon  is  granted.  What  do  you  think,  strangers,  of 
such  a  chaplain,  who  disposes  so  easily  of  my  property  ? 
That  confounded  priest's  name  is  Athanasius  Munder. 
Oh,  if  I  could  only  get  hold  of  him!" 

The  minister  rose,  and  said  in  a  quiet  voice,  with  a 
calm  manner,  "My  son,  I  am  Athanasius  Munder." 


HAKS  OF  ICELAND.  157 

At  these  words  Orugix's  face  became  inflamed  with 
fury ;  he  started  from  his  seat.  Then  his  angiy  eye  met 
the  friendly  gaze  of  the  chaplain,  and  he  sat  down  again 
slowly,  in  mute  confusion. 

There  was  a  momentary  silence.  Ordener,  who  had 
risen  from  the  table  ready  to  defend  the  priest,  was  first 
to  break  it. 

"  Nychol  Orugix,"  said  he,  "  here  are  thirteen  crowns  to 
pay  for  the  pardon  of  those  prisoners." 

"  Alas  !  "  interrupted  the  minister,  "  who  knows  whether 
I  can  obtain  their  pardon  ?  I  must  first  manage  to  get  a 
word  with  the  viceroy's  son,  for  it  all  depends  upon  his 
marrying  the  chancellor's  daughter." 

"  Sir  chaplain,"  answered  the  young  man  in  a  firm  voice, 
"your  wish  shall  be  granted.  Even  if  Ordener  Guldenlew 
never  wears  the  marriage  ring,  the  chains  of  your  ;proieges 
shall  be  loosed." 

"Young  stranger,  you  can  do  nothing  in  the  matter; 
but  God  hears,  and  will  reward  you ! " 

Meantime,  Ordener's  thirteen  crowns  had  finished  the 
work  which  the  priest's  mild  gaze  began.  Nychol's  anger 
being  allayed,  he  recovered  his  good-humor, 

"  Come,  reverend  sir,  you  are  a  good  man,  worthy  to 
serve  in  St.  Hilary's  chapel ;  I  spoke  more  harshly  than 
I  intended.  You  do  but  follow  your  own  path ;  it  is  not 
your  fault  if  it  crosses  mine.  But  there  is  one  man  to 
whom  I  do  bear  a  grudge,  and  that 's  the  guardian  of  the 
dead  at  Throndhjem,  —  that  old  sorcerer,  the  keeper  of  the 
Spladgest.  What 's  his  name  now, — Spliugry  ?  Spadugry  ? 
Tell  me,  you  old  philosopher,  who  seem  to  be  a  perfect 


158  HANS  OF  ICELAND. 

Babel  of  learning,  —  you  who  know  everything,  can't 
you  help  me  to  remember  the  name  of  that  magician, 
your  brother?  You  must  have  met  him  sometimes  of  a 
Sabbath,  riding  through  the  air  on  a  broomstick,  eh?" 

Certainly,  if  poor  Benign  us  could  have  escaped  at  that 
moment  upon  some  such  aerial  steed,  the  narrator  of  this 
story  doubts  not  that  he  would  most  gladly  have  trusted 
his  frail  and  terrified  body  to  its  tender  mercies.  Never 
before  was  his  love  of  life  so  strong  as  now  that  he  clearly 
perceived  the  extreme  imminence  of  his  danger.  Every- 
thing that  he  saw  frightened  him,  —  the  legends  of  the 
Cursed  Tower,  the  wild  eyes  of  the  red  woman,  the 
voice,  gloves,  and  beverage  of  the  mysterious  monk,  the 
rash  courage  of  his  young  companion,  and  especially 
the  hangman,  —  the  hangman,  into  whose  abode  he 
had  fallen  in  his  effort  to  escape  from  the  charge  of 
crime.  He  trembled  so  violently  that  he  could  scarcely 
move,  particularly  when  the  conversation  turned  upon 
himself,  and  he  heard  the  dreadful  Orugix's  question. 
As  he  had  no  desire  to  imitate  the  heroism  of  the 
priest,  his  faltering  tongue  found  great  difficulty  in 
framing  a  reply. 

"  Well ! "  repeated  the  hangman,  "  don't  you  know  the 
name  of  the  keeper  of  the  Spladgest?  Does  your  wig 
make  you  deaf?" 

"Somewhat,  sir;  but,"  he  finally  stammered  out,  "I 
don't  know  his  name,  I  swear  I  don't." 

"  He  don't  know  ? "  said  the  hermit's  terrible  voice. 
"He  does  wrong  to  take  oath  to  it.  That  man's  name 
is  Benignus  Spiagudiy.* 


HANS  OF  ICELAND.  159 

"  My  name  !  my  name  !  Great  heavens  ! "  exclaimed 
the  affrighted  old  man. 

The  hangman  burst  out  laughing. 

"  And  who  said  that  it  was  your  name  ?  We  are  talk- 
ing of  that  dog  of  a  keeper.  In  good  sooth,  this  learned 
fellow  is  scared  at  nothing.  How  would  it  be  if  his 
ridiculous  grimaces  had  a  genuine  cause  ?  It  would  be 
fun  to  hang  the  old  fool.  So  then,  venerable  doctor," 
added  the  hangman,  whom  Spiagudry's  fears  entertained, 
"  you  do  not  know  this  Benignus  Spiagudry  ? " 

"No,  master,"  said  the  keeper,  somewhat  reassured  by 
his  disguise ;  "  I  assure  you  I  don't  know  him.  And  since 
he  is  so  unfortunate  as  to  displease  you,  I  should  be 
very  sorry,  master,  indeed  I  should,  if  I  did  know  the 
feUow." 

"  And  you,  hermit,"  said  Orugix,  —  "  you  seem  to  know 
him  ? " 

"  Yes,  truly,"  replied  the  hermit ;  "  he  is  a  tall,  dried-up, 
bald  old  fellow  — " 

Spiagudry,  justly  alarmed  at  this  minute  description, 
hastily  adjusted  his  wig. 

"  He  has,"  added  the  hermit,  "  long  hands  like  those  of 
a  thief  who  has  not  seen  a  traveller  for  a  week,  a  bent 
back  —  " 

Spiagudry  sat  up  as  straight  as  he  could. 

"Moreover,  he  might  easily  be  taken  for  one  of  the 
corpses  in  his  charge  if  he  had  not  such  sharp  eyes." 

Spiagudry  clapped  his  hand  to  his  plaster. 

"  Many  thanks.  Father,"  said  the  hangman ;  "  I  shall 
know  the  old  Jew  now,  wherever  I  may  run  across  him." 


160  HANS  OF  ICELAND. 

Spiagudry,  who  was  an  excellent  Christian,  indignant  at 
this  intolerable  insult,  could  not  help  exclaiming,  "  Jew, 
master  1  " 

Then  he  stopped  short,  trembling  lest  he  had  said  too 
much. 

"  Well,  Jew  or  Pagan,  what  does  it  matter  which,  if  he 
have  dealings  with  the  Devil,  as  they  say  he  has  ? " 

"  I  should  readily  believe  it,"  rejoined  the  hermit,  with 
a  sarcastic  smile,  not  quite  hidden  by  his  cowl,  "if  he  were 
not  such  a  coward.  But  how  could  he  covenant  with 
Satan  ?  He  is  as  cowardly  as  he  is  wicked.  When  fear 
takes  possession  of  him,  he  actually  forgets  his  own 
identity." 

The  hermit  spoke  slowly,  as  if  with  intention,  the  very 
deliberation  of  his  words  lending  them  peculiar  force. 

"He  forgets  his  own  identity!"  mentally  repeated 
Spiagudry. 

"  It 's  a  pity  for  a  bad  man  to  be  a  coward,"  said  the 
hangman ;  "  for  he 's  not  worth  hating.  We  fight  a  ser- 
pent, but  we  can  only  crush  a  lizard." 

Spiagudry  ventured  a  few  words  in  his  own  defence. 

"  But,  gentlemen,  are  you  sure  that  the  ofiBcial  of 
whom  you  speak  is  really  what  you  say  ?  Is  his  repu- 
tation so  bad  ? " 

"His  reputation!"  repeated  the  hermit;  "he  has  the 
worst  reputation  of  any  man  in  the  district ! " 

Benignus,  in  his  disappointment,  turned  to  the  hangman. 

"  Master,  what  fault  have  you  to  find  with  him  ?  For  I 
do  not  doubt  that  your  dislike  is  just." 

*'  You  are  right,  old  man,  not  to  doubt  it.     As  his  trade 


ELANS  OF  ICELAIfD.  161 

resembles  mine,  Spiagudry  does  all  he  can  to  injure 
me." 

"  Oh,  master,  never  believe  it  I  Or,  if  it  be  so,  it  is 
because  he  never  saw  you,  as  I  have,  surrounded  by  your 
good  wife  and  lovely  children,  admitting  strangers  to  the 
delights  of  your  domestic  circle.  Had  he  enjoyed  your 
kind  hospitality  as  I  have,  sir,  the  unfortunate  man  could 
never  be  your  enemy." 

Spiagudry  had  scarcely  ended  this  wily  speech,  when  the 
taU  woman,  who  had  been  silent  until  then,  rose,  and  said 
in  a  sharp,  stern  voice,  "  The  viper's  tongue  is  never  more 
venomous  than  when  it  is  smeared  with  honey."  Then 
she  sat  down  again,  and  went  on  polishing  her  pincers,  — 
a  task  whose  hoarse,  grating  sound,  filling  up  the  spaces 
in  the  conversation,  performed  the  office  of  the  chorus 
in  a  Greek  tragedy,  at  the  expense  of  the  ears  of  the 
four  travellers. 

"  That  woman  is  crazy  indeed ! "  thought  the  keeper, 
unable  otherwise  to  explain  the  ill  effect  of  his  flattery. 

"Becky  is  right,  my  fair-haired  sage,"  exclaimed  the 
hangman.  "I  shall  think  you  have  a  viper's  tongue,  if 
you  defend  that  Spiagudry  much  longer." 

"God  forbid,  master!"  exclaimed  the  latter;  "I  would 
not  defend  him  for  the  world." 

'  Very  good.  You  do  not  know  how  far  he  carries  his 
insolence.  Would  you  believe  that  the  impudent  scamp 
is  bold  enough  to  dispute  my  right  to  the  possession  of 
Hans  of  Iceland  ? " 

"  Hans  of  Iceland  ! "  exclaimed  the  hermit. 

**  Yes,  to  be  sure.     Do  you  know  that  famous  knave  ?' 

TOL.  IX. — 11 


162  HANS  OF  ICELAND. 

"  Yes,"  said  the  hermit. 

"  Well,  every  thief  belongs  to  the  hangman,  does  n't  he  ? 
What  does  that  infernal  Spiagudry  do  ?  He  asks  to  have 
a  price  set  upon  the  head  of  Hans." 

"  He  asks  to  have  a  price  set  upon  the  head  of  Hans  ? " 
interrupted  the  hermit. 

"  He  had  the  audacity  to  do  so,  and  that,  simply  that 
the  body  might  fall  to  his  share,  and  I  might  be  defrauded 
of  my  property." 

"What  an  outrage,  Master  Orugix,  to  dare  to  dis- 
pute your  right  to  a  thing  which  so  plainly  belongs  to 
you!" 

These  words  were  accompanied  by  a  malicious  smile, 
which  alarmed  Spiagudry. 

"  The  trick  is  all  the  worse,  hermit,  because  I  only  need 
one  good  hanging,  such  as  that  of  Hans  would  be,  to 
remove  me  from  ray  obscurity,  and  to  make  the  fortune 
which  I  failed  to  make  by  beheading  Schumacker." 

« Indeed,  Master  Nychol  ? " 

"  Yes,  brother  monk,  on  the  day  that  Hans  is  arrested, 
come  and  see  me,  and  we  will  sacrifice  a  fat  pig  to  my 
future  greatness." 

"  Gladly  ;  but  who  knows  whether  I  shall  be  at  liberty 
upon  that  day  ?  Besides,  you  just  now  sent  ambition  to 
the  Devil." 

"  Oh,  why  not,  Father,  when  I  see  that  to  destroy  my 
best  founded  hopes  it  only  needs  a  Spiagudry,  and  a 
request  to  set  a  price  upon  a  man's  head  ? " 

"  Ah ! "  repeated  the  hermit,  in  a  peculiar  tone ;  "  so 
Spiagudry  asked  that  a  price  be  set!** 


HANS  OF  ICELAND.  18S 

That  voice'  was  to  the  wretched  keeper  what  the  toad's 
eye  is  to  a  bird. 

"  Gentlemen,"  he  urged,  "  why  judge  rashly  ?  It  is  not 
at  all  sure ;  it  may  be  a  false  report." 

"  A  false  report ! "  cried  Orugix  ;  "  the  thing  is  but  too 
certain.  The  petition  of  the  city  council,  supported  by 
the  signature  of  the  keeper  of  the  Spladgest,  is  in  Thrond- 
hjem  at  this  very  moment.  It  only  waits  the  decision  of 
his  excellency  the  governor-general." 

The  hangman  was  so  well  informed,  that  Spiagudry 
dared  not  continue  his  defence ;  he  contented  himself  with 
swearing  inwardly,  for  the  hundredth  time,  at  his  youthful 
companion.  But  what  was  his  horror  when  he  heard  the 
hermit,  who  for  some  moments  had  seemed  lost  in  thought, 
suddenly  exclaim  in  bantering  tones:  "Master  Nychol, 
what  is  the  penalty  for  sacrilege  ? " 

These  words  produced  the  same  effect  on  Spiagudry  as 
if  his  periwig  and  plaster  had  been  torn  off.  He  anxiously 
awaited  the  reply  of  Orugix,  who  stopped  to  empty 
his  glass. 

"  That  depends  on  the  nature  of  the  sacrilege,"  said  the 
hangman. 

"  Suppose  it  was  profaning  the  dead  ?  ** 

Upon  this  the  shivering  Spiagudry  expected  every 
instant  to  hear  his  name  issue  from  the  lips  of  the 
unaccountable  monk. 

"  Formerly,"  coolly  remarked  Orugix,  "  they  buried  the 
offender  alive,  with  the  body  he  had  outraged." 

*'  And  now  ? " 

**  Now  the  punishment  is  milder,** 


164  HANS  OF  ICELAND. 

"  Is  milder ! "  said  Spiagudry,  scarcely  daring  to  breathe. 

"Yes,"  rejoined  the  hangman,  with  the  satisfied  and 
indifferent  air  of  an  artist  talking  of  his  own  art ;  "  they 
brand  him  first,  with  a  hot  iron,  with  the  letter  S,  on  the 
calf  of  the  leg." 

"  And  then  ? "  broke  in  the  old  keeper,  upon  whom  it 
would  have  been  difficult  to  inflict  this  part  of  the  sentence- 

"  Then,"  said  the  executioner,  "  they  merely  hang  him." 

"  Mercy  ! "  said  Spiagudiy ;  "  hang  him ! " 

"  Well,  what 's  the  matter  with  you  ?  You  look  at  me 
as  the  victim  looks  at  the  gallows." 

"  I  am  glad,"  said  the  hermit,  "  to  see  that  people  are 
growing  more  humane." 

At  this  moment,  the  storm  having  ceased,  the  clear, 
intermittent  sound  of  a  horn  was  distinctly  heard  outside. 

"Nychol,"  said  his  wife,  "they  are  in  search  of  some 
malefactor ;  that 's  the  horn  of  the  bowmen." 

"The  horn  of  the  bowmen!"  repeated  each  of  the 
company,  in  different  accents,  but  Spiagudry  in  tones  of 
unmistakable  terror. 

They  had  scarcely  uttered  the  words  when  there  was  a 
knock  at  the  door. 


XIIL 


Only  a  man,  a  sign,  is  needed;  the  elements  of  revolution  are  ready. 
Who  will  be  the  first  ?  So  soon  as  there  is  a  fulcrum,  everything  will 
move.  —  Bonaparte. 


LOEVIG  is  a  large  town,  situated  on  the  north  side  of 
Throndhjem  fjord,  and  sheltered  by  a  low  chain  of 
bare  hills,  singularly  diversified  by  various  sorts  of  crops, 
like  broad  bits  of  mosaic  resting  upon  the  horizon.  The 
appearance  of  the  town  is  gloomy ;  the  fishermen's  cabins, 
made  of  twigs  and  reeds,  the  conical  hut,  constructed  of 
earth  and  stones,  in  which  the  invalid  miner  spends  the 
few  days  which  his  scanty  savings  allow  him  to  devote  to 
sunshine  and  rest,  and  the  frail  ruin  which  the  chamois- 
hunter  in  his  turn  decks  with  a  straw  roof  and  walls  hung 
with  skins,  line  streets  longer  than  the  town  itself,  because 
they  are  narrow  and  crooked.     In  a  square  where  now 


166  HANS  OF  ICELAKD. 

exist  only  the  remains  of  a  great  tower,  once  stood  the 
ancient  fortress  built  by  Horda  the  Fine  Archer,  lord  of 
Loevig,  and  brother-in-arms  of  the  pagan  king  Halfdan, 
occupied  in  1698  by  the  mayor  of  the  town,  who  would 
have  been  the  best-lodged  citizen  in  the  city,  if  it  had  not 
been  for  the  silvery  stork  who  every  summer  perched  on 
the  tip  of  the  sharp  spire  of  the  church,  like  the  white 
pearl  on  the  top  of  a  mandarin's  pointed  cap. 

On  the  morning  of  the  same  day  that  Ordener  reached 
Throndhjem,  another  personage,  also  incognito,  landed  at 
Loevig,  His  gilded  litter,  although  without  armorial 
bearings,  his  four  tall  lackeys,  armed  to  the  teeth,  instantly 
became  the  topic  of  every  conversation,  and  roused  the 
curiosity  of  all.  The  landlord  of  the  Golden  Gull,  a 
small  tavern  at  which  the  great  man  alighted,  himself 
assumed  an  air  of  mystery,  and  answered  every  question 
with  an  "  I  don't  know,"  which  seemed  to  imply,  "  I  know 
all,  but  you  shall  know  nothing."  The  tall  lackeys  were 
as  mute  as  fishes,  and  more  obscure  than  the  mouth  of 
a  mine. 

The  mayor  shut  himself  up  in  his  tower,  waiting  with 
great  dignity  for  the  stranger  to  make  the  first  visit; 
but  the  inhabitants  were  soon  surprised  to  see  him  call 
twice  at  the  Golden  Gull  in  vain,  and  at  evening  lie  in 
wait  for  a  bow  from  the  stranger,  as  he  sat  at  the  half-open 
window.  From  this  the  gossips  inferred  that  the  great 
man  had  made  his  high  rank  known  to  the  lord  mayor. 
They  were  mistaken.  A  messenger  sent  by  the  stranger 
presented  himself  at  the  mayor's  office  to  get  his  pass- 
port signed,  and  the  mayor  noticed  upon  the  green  seal 


HANS  OF  ICELAND.  167 

two  crossed  hands  supporting  an  ermine  mantle,  sur- 
mounted by  a  count's  coronet  upon  a  shield,  from  which 
depended  the  collars  of  the  Orders  of  the  Elephant  and  the 
Dannebrog.  This  was  enough  for  the  mayor,  who  was 
most  desirous  of  obtaining  from  the  chancellor  the  lord 
mayoralty  of  Throndhjem.  But  his  advances  were  useless, 
^for  the  great  man  would  see  no  one. 

The  second  day  of  the  traveller's  stay  in  Loevig  was 
drawing  to  its  close,  when  the  landlord  entered  his  room, 
saying  with  a  low  bow  that  the  messenger  expected  by  lua 
Grace  had  arrived. 

"  Very  well,"  said  his  Grace ;  "let  him  come  up." 

A  moment  later  the  messenger  entered,  carefully  closed 
the  door,  then  bowing  to  the  ground  before  the  stranger, 
who  had  half  turned  toward  him,  waited  in  respectful 
silence  until  he  should  be  addressed. 

"  I  expected  you  this  morning,"  said  the  stranger ; 
"  what  detained  you  ?  '* 

"The  interests  of  your  Grace,  Count;  have  I  another 
thought  ? " 

"  How  is  Elphega  ?    How  is  Frederic  ?  " 

"They  are  well." 

"  Good !  good  ! "  broke  in  the  master ;  "  have  you  noth- 
ing more  interesting  to  tell  me  ?  What  is  the  news  at 
Throndhjem?" 

"Nothing,  except  that  Baron  Thorwick  arrived  there 
yesterday." 

"  Yes,  I  know  that  he  wanted  to  consult  that  old  Meck- 
lenburger,  Levin,  about  his  marriag?.  Do  you  know  the 
result  of  his  interview  with  l;he  governor?** 


168  HANS  OF  ICELAND. 

"  To-day  at  noon,  when  I  left,  he  had  not  yet  seen  the 
general." 

"  What !  and  he  arrived  last  night !  You  surprise  me^ 
Musdcemon.     And  had  he  seen  the  countess  ? " 

"Still  less,  sir." 

"Then  you  saw  him?" 

"  No,  noble  master ;  besides,  I  do  not  know  him." 

"  And  how,  if  no  one  has  seen  him,  do  you  know  that 
he  is  in  Throndhjem?" 

"  Through  his  servant,  who  was  at  the  governor's  palace 
yesterday." 

"  But  he,  —  did  he  go  elsewhere  ? " 

"  His  servant  declares  that  as  soon  as  he  arrived,  he  set 
off  for  Munkholm,  after  first  visiting  the  Spladgest." 

The  count's  eye  flashed  fire. 

"  For  Munkholm  !  For  Schumacker's  prison !  Are  you 
positive  ?  I  always  suspected  that  honest  Levin  of  being 
a  traitor.  For  Munkholm  !  What  can  be  the  attraction 
there  ?  Did  he  want  to  ask  Schumacker's  advice  also  ? 
Did  he  —  " 

"  Noble  lord,"  interrupted  Musdcemon,  "  it  is  by  no 
means  certain  that  he  went  there." 

"  What !  Then  why  did  you  say  so  ?  Are  you  trifling 
with  me  ? " 

"  Pardon  me,  your  Grace !  I  merely  repeated  what  the 
baron's  servant  said.  But  Mr.  Frederic,  who  wais  on  duty 
yesterday  at  Munkholm,  saw  nothing  of  Baron  Ordener." 

"  That 's  no  proof !  My  son  does  not  know  the  vice- 
roy's sou.  Ordener  may  have  entered  the  fortress  in 
disguise." 


HANS  OF  ICELAND.  169 

"Yes,  sir;  but  Mr.  Frederic  asserts  that  he  saw  no 
one." 

The  count  grew  calmer. 

"  That  '3  a  different  matter.  Did  my  son  really  say 
so?" 

"  He  assured  me  of  the  fact  three  separate  times ;  and 
Mr.  Frederic's  interests  in  this  case  are  identical  with 
your  own." 

This  suggestion  quite  relieved  the  count, 

"  Ah  I "  said  he,  "  I  understand.  The  baron,  on  his  ar- 
rival, must  have  wished  to  take  a  short  sail  on  the  fjord, 
and  his  servant  fancied  that  he  went  to  Munkholm.  After 
all,  why  should  he  go  there  ?  I  was  foolish  to  take  alarm. 
My  son-in-law's  lack  of  eagerness  to  see  old  Levin  proves, 
on  the  contrary,  that  his  affection  for  him  is  not  so  strong 
as  I  feared.  You  will  hardly  believe  it,  my  dear  Musdoe- 
mon,"  added  the  count,  "  but  I  actually  imagined  that 
Ordener  was  in  love  with  Ethel  Schumacker,  and  I  con- 
structed a  romance  and  an  intrigue  out  of  this  journey  to 
Munkholm.  But,  thank  God,  Ordener  is  not  such  a  fool 
as  I  am.  By  the  way,  my  friend,  how  fares  it  with  that 
young  Danae  in  Frederic's  hands  ? " 

Musdoemon  had  shared  his  master's  fears  regarding 
Ethel  Schumacker,  and  had  struggled  against  them  with- 
out overcoming  them  quite  so  readily.  However,  charmed 
to  see  his  master  smile,  he  took  care  not  to  disturb  his 
peace  of  mind,  but  rather  sought  to  add  to  it,  that  he 
might  increase  that  serene  temper  so  necessary  in  th« 
great  for  the  well-being  of  their  favorites. 

*•  Noble  Count,  your  son  has  failed  with  Schumacker's 


170  HANS  OF  ICELAOT). 

daughter;  but  it  seems  that  another  has  been  more 
fortunate." 

The  count  interrupted  hira  eagerly. 

"  Another  !     What  other  ?  " 

"  Oh,  I  don't  know,  —  some  peasant,  serf,  or  vassal." 

"  Do  you  speak  the  truth  ? "  cried  the  count,  his  stern, 
dark  face  beaming. 

"  Mr.  Frederic  declares  that  it  is  so,  and  he  told  the 
countess  the  same  story." 

The  count  rose  and  paced  the  room,  rubbing  his  hands. 

"  Musdcemon,  dear  Musdoemon,  but  one  more  effort, 
and  our  end  is  gained.  The  young  shoot  is  blasted.  We 
have  only  to  uproot  the  parent  tree.  Have  you  any  other 
good  news  ? " 

"  Dispolsen  has  been  murdered." 

The  count's  features  brightened. 

"  Ah,  you  see  that  we  advance  from  victory  to  victory. 
Have  we  his  papers  ?  Above  all,  have  we  that  iron 
casket  ? " 

"  I  regret  to  inform  your  Grace  that  the  murder  was 
not  committed  by  our  people.  He  was  killed  and  robbed 
upon  Urchtal  Sands,  and  the  deed  is  attributed  to  Hans 
of  Iceland." 

"  Hans  of  Iceland  ! "  repeated  his  master,  his  brow  again 
clouding.  "  What !  that  famous  brigand  whom  we  meant 
to  put  in  charge  of  our  rebellion  ? " 

"  The  same,  noble  Count ;  and  I  fear,  from  what  I  can 
gather,  that  it  will  be  no  easy  task  to  find  him.  At  any 
rate,  I  have  secured  a  leader  who  will  take  his  name,  and 
can  replace  him  if  necessary,  —  a  wild  mountaineer,  tall 


HANS  OF   ICELAND.  171 

and  strong  as  an  oak,  fierce  and  bold  as  a  wolf  in  a  wilder- 
ness of  snow,  this  terrible  giant  must  surely  look  much 
like  the  real  Hans  of  Iceland." 

"  Then  Hans  of  Iceland  is  tall  ? "  inquired  the  count. 

"  That  is  the  general  opinion,  your  Grace." 

"  I  cannot  but  admire,  my  dear  Musdoemon,  the  art  with 
which  you  lay  your  plans.  When  is  the  insurrection  to 
break  out?" 

"  Oh,  very  soon,  your  Grace  ;  perhaps  it  is  on  foot  even 
now.  The  royal  protectorate  has  long  been  odious  to  the 
miners ;  they  all  grasped  with  joy  at  the  idea  of  revolt. 
The  movement  will  begin  at  Guldbrandsdal,  extend  to 
Sund-Moer,  and  reach  Kongsberg.  Two  thousand  miners 
can  be  raised  in  three  days.  The  rebellion  will  be 
kindled  in  Schumacker's  name ;  our  emissaries  use  no 
other.  The  reserve  forces  in  the  South  and  the  gar- 
risons at  Throudhjem  and  Skongen  can  be  called  out, 
and  you  will  be  here  on  the  spot  most  opportunely  to 
put  down  the  rebellion,  —  a  fresh  and  significant  ser- 
vice in  the  eyes  of  the  king,  —  and  to  rid  him  of  this 
Schumacker,  the  source  of  such  anxiety  to  the  throne. 
Upon  these  firm  foundations  will  rise  the  structure  to 
be  crowned  by  the  marriage  of  our  noble  lady  Ulrica 
and  Baron  Thorwick." 

A  private  interview  between  two  scoundrels  is  never 
long,  because  all  that  is  human  in  their  souls  quickly  takes 
alarm  at  the  infernal  qualities  revealed.  When  two  de- 
praved spirits  mutually  display  their  naked  vices,  each  is 
disgusted  by  the  other's  iniquity.  Crime  itself  revolts  at 
crime ;  and  two  evil-doers  conversing,  with  all  the  cyni- 


172  HANS  OF  ICELAND. 

cism  of  intimacy,  of  their  pleasures  and  their  interests,  are 
like  a  fearful  mirror,  each  reflecting  the  other's  monstrous 
features.  Their  own  degradation  mortifies  them  when 
seen  in  another,  their  own  pride  confounds  them,  their 
own  nothingness  alarms  them ;  and  they  cannot  fly  from 
themselves  or  disavow  their  own  portrait  in  their  fellow- 
man  ;  for  each  odious  harmony,  each  frightful  coincidence, 
each  hideous  parallel  finds  within  them  an  untiring  voice 
to  denounce  them  in  their  ever-wearied  ear.  However 
secret  may  be  their  intercourse,  it  has  always  two  in- 
tolerable witnesses,  —  God,  whom  they  cannot  see,  and 
conscience,  which  they  feel. 

His  confidential  talks  with  Musdoemon  distressed  the 
count  the  more  because  the  latter  always  unhesitatingly 
imputed  to  his  master  a  good  share  of  the  crimes  com- 
mitted or  about  to  be  committed.  Many  courtiers  think 
it  wise  to  save  great  men  from  the  appearance  of  wrong- 
doing ;  they  assume  the  responsibility  of  evil,  and  often 
spare  their  patron's  blushes  by  allowing  him  to  feign  re- 
sistance to  advantageous  crime.  Musdoemon,  by  a  refine- 
ment of  skill,  pursued  the  contrary  course.  He  wished  it 
to  seem  that  he  seldom  advised,  and  always  obeyed.  He 
knew  his  master's  soul  as  familiarly  as  that  master  knew 
his  heart ;  therefore  he  never  compromised  himself  without 
compromising  the  count.  There  was  no  head,  save  that  of 
Schumacker,  that  the  count  would  have  been  so  glad  to 
see  fall ;  Musdoemon  knew  this  as  well  as  if  his  master 
had  told  him,  and  his  master  knew  that  he  knew  it. 

The  count  had  learned  all  that  he  wished  to  learn ;  he 
was  satisfied ;  he  was  now  eager  to  dismiss  Musdoemon. 


HANS  OF  ICELAND.  178 

"  Musdoemon,"  said  he,  with  a  gracious  smile,  "  you  are 
the  most  faithful  and  most  zealous  of  all  my  servants. 
All  goes  well,  and  I  owe  it  to  your  devotion.  I  make  you 
private  secretary  to  the  chancellor's  office." 

Musdoemon  bowed  low. 

"  Nor  is  that  all,"  added  the  count ;  "  I  will  ask  for  you, 
for  the  third  time,  the  Order  of  the  Dannebrog.  But  I 
still  fear  that  your  birth,  your  humble  relations  —  " 

Musdoemon  blushed,  turned  pale,  and  hid  his  change  of 
color  by  another  bow. 

"Come,"  said  the  count,  offering  him  his  hand  to  kiss, 
"come,  Mr.  Private  Secretary,  draw  up  your  placeat  !  It 
may  chance  to  find  the  king  in  gracious  mood." 

"  Whether  his  Majesty  grant  my  petition  or  not,  your 
Grace's  kindness  overwhelms  me." 

"  Make  haste,  my  dear  fellow,  for  I  am  anxious  to  be 
off.  We  must  try  to  get  some  exact  information  about 
this  Hans." 

Musdoemon,  with  a  third  bow,  opened  the  door. 

"  Ah  ! "  said  the  count,  "  I  forgot.  In  your  new  posi- 
tion as  private  secretary,  you  may  write  to  the  chancellor's 
office  and  order  them  to  dismiss  this  mayor  of  Loevig,  who 
compromises  the  dignity  of  his  position  in  the  eyes  of  the 
villagers  by  his  servility  to  strangers  whom  he  does  not 
know." 


XIV. 

Hie  monk  at  midnight  visiting  the  crooB, 

The  knight  taming  his  fiery  steed, 

The  man  who  with  dread  sound  of  trumpet  diea, 

And  he  who  dies  with  peaceful  voice  of  prayer, 

Are  all  the  objects  of  Thy  care,  lavished  alike 

On  every  pious  soul,  whether  he  tonsure  wear  or  helm. 

Hymn  to  Saint  Anselm, 

**  "VTTES,  master,  we  really  owe  a  pilgrimage  to  Lynraas 
J-  grotto.  Who  would  have  thought  that  the  hermit, 
whom  I  cursed  as  if  he  had  been  the  Devil,  would  prove  to 
be  our  guardian  angel,  and  that  the  sword  which  seemed 
to  threaten  our  very  lives  would  serve  for  a  bridge  to  take 
ns  over  the  abyss  ? " 

It  was  in  these  somewhat  grotesquely  figurative  terms 
that  Benignus  Spiagudry  poured  into  Ordener's  ears  his 
joy,  his  admiration,  and  his  gratitude  for  the  mysterious 


HANS  OF  ICELAOT).  1V5 

monk.  As  will  readily  be  supposed,  our  two  travellers 
had  left  the  Cursed  Tower ;  nay,  when  we  again  encounter 
them,  tliey  have  even  left  the  village  of  Vygla  far  behind 
them,  and  are  painfully  pursuing  a  steep  path,  interrupted 
by  frequent  pools  or  blocked  by  huge  stones,  which  tran- 
sient torrents  caused  by  storms  had  washed  down  from 
the  wet,  sticky  soil.  Day  had  not  yet  dawned ;  but  the 
bushes  growing  above  the  rocks  on  either  side  of  the  road 
stood  out  against  the  clear  sky  like  dark  silhouettes,  and 
various  objects,  although  still  colorless,  gradually  assumed 
form  in  the  dim,  dull  light  which  daybreak  in  the  North 
filters  through  the  chill  fogs  of  early  morning. 

Ordener  was  silent,  for  he  had  yielded  to  that  somnolent 
state  sometimes  permitted  by  the  mechanical  motion  of 
walking.  He  had  not  slept  since  the  night  before,  when 
he  allowed  himself  to  rest  in  a  fishing-boat  moored  in 
Throndhjem  harbor  for  the  few  hours  intervening  between 
his  departure  from  the  Spladgest  and  his  arrival  at  Munk- 
holm.  Accordingly,  while  his  body  moved  toward  Skon- 
gen  his  spirit  had  flown  back  to  Throndlijem  Fjord,  —  to 
that  gloomy  prison  and  tho'^e  melancholy  towers  which 
contained  the  only  being  on  earth  to  whom  he  attached 
any  idea  of  hope  and  happiness. 

Awake,  thoughts  of  his  Ethel  filled  his  mind ;  asleep, 
her  memory  became  a  fanciful  image  which  irradiated  all 
his  dreams.  In  this  second  life  of  sleep,  where  for  a 
time  the  soul  done  exists,  and  the  physical  being  with  all 
its  material  ills  seems  to  disappear,  he  saw  the  beloved 
maiden,  no  more  beautiful,  no  purer,  than  in  reality,  but 
happier,  freer,  more  wholly  his  own.     Only,  upon  the  road 


176  HANS  OF  ICELAND. 

to  Skongen,  the  oblivion  of  his  body,  the  torpor  of  his 
senses,  could  not  be  complete ;  for  from  time  to  time  a 
bog,  a  stone,  the  branch  of  a  tree,  impeding  his  progress, 
recalled  him  suddenly  from  the  ideal  to  the  real.  He 
would  then  raise  his  head,  half  open  his  drowsy  eyes,  and 
regret  the  faU  from  bright  celestial  wanderings  to  his 
painful  earthly  journey,  where  nothing  could  compensate 
for  his  lost  illusions,  save  that  he  felt  close  to  his  heart 
the  ringlet  which  was  his  until  Ethel  herself  should  be 
his  own.  Then  this  memory  revived  the  charming  dream- 
image,  and  he  gently  relapsed,  not  into  slumber,  but  into 
a  vague,  persistent  revery, 

"  Master,"  repeated  Spiagudry,  in  a  louder  tone,  which, 
combined  with  a  blow  from  the  trunk  of  a  tree,  aroused 
Oidener,  "  fear  nothing.  The  bowmen  turned  to  the  right 
with  the  hermit  when  they  left  the  tower,  and  we  are  far 
enough  away  from  them  to  venture  to  speak.  It  is  true 
that  silence  was  most  prudent  until  now." 

"  Indeed,"  said  Ordener,  yawning,  "  you  push  your  pru- 
dence to  extremes.  It  is  at  least  three  hours  since  we 
left  the  tower  and  the  bowmen  behind  us." 

"  That  is  true,  sir ;  but  prudence  never  does  any  harm. 
Only  think,  if  I  had  declared  myself  when  the  chief  of 
that  infernal  troop  asked  for  Benignus  Spiagudry  iu  a 
voice  like  that  of  Saturn  calling  for  his  new-born  son  that 
he  might  devour  him !  Suppose,  even,  I  had  not  taken 
refuge  in  a  prudent  silence  at  that  awful  moment,  where 
should  I  be  now,  noble  master  ? " 

"  Faith,  old  man,  T  fancy  that  at  that  moment  nothing, 
not  even  pincers,  could  have  drawn  your  name  from  you." 


HANS  OF  ICELAND.  177 

"  Was  I  wrong,  master  ?  If  I  had  spoken,  the  monk,  — 
may  Saint  Hospitius,  and  Saint  Usbald  the  Solitary,  bless 
him  !  —  the  monk  would  have  had  no  opportunity  to  ask 
the  captain  of  the  archers  whether  his  men  did  not  he- 
long  to  the  Munkholm  regiment ;  a  trifling  question, 
merely  asked  in  order  to  gain  time.  Did  you  notice,  sir, 
after  that  stupid  archer  answered  '  Yes,'  with  what  a  pecu- 
liar smile  the  monk  requested  him  to  follow  him,  saying 
that  he  knew  the  hiding-place  of  the  fugitive,  Benignus 
Spiagudry  ? " 

Here  the  keeper  paused  for  a  moment,  as  if  to  make  a 
fresh  start ;  for  he  suddenly  resumed,  in  a  voice  quivering 
with  emotion :  "  A  good  priest,  a  worthy  and  upright  an- 
chorite, practising  the  principles  of  Christian  virtue  and 
evangelic  charity ;  and  I  was  alarmed  at  his  mere  outward 
appearance,  forbidding  enough,  truly ;  but  what  a  beautiful 
soul  lies  beneath  !  Did  you  notice  too,  noble  master,  that 
there  was  something  peculiar  in  the  tone  with  which  he  said 
to  me,  '  We  shall  meet  again ! '  as  he  led  away  the  archers  ? 
At  any  other  time  that  tone  would  have  alarmed  me ;  but 
it  is  not  the  pious  and  excellent  hermit's  fault.  Solitude 
undoubtedly  gives  that  strange  intonation;  for  I  know, 
sir,"  —  here  the  voice  of  Benignus  sank  lower,  —  "I  know 
another  hermit,  that  dreadful  fellow  who —  But  no;  out 
of  respect  for  the  venerable  hermit  of  Lynrass  I  will  not 
make  so  odious  a  comparison.  Neither  was  there  any- 
thing peculiar  about  his  gloves ;  it  is  quite  cold  enough 
to  wear  them ;  and  his  salty  beverage  does  not  surprise 
me  either.  Catholic  anchorites  often  follow  singular 
examples;    the  very  same    thing,   master,   is   alluded  to 

VOL.  IX. — 12 


178  HANS  OF  ICELAND. 

in  this  line  by  the  famous  Urensius,  the  monk  of  Mount 
Caucasus : — 

*  Rivos  despicieus,  maris  undam  potat  amaram.' 

Why  did  n't  I  think  of  that  verse  whUe  I  was  in  that  con- 
founded ruin  at  Vygla?  A  little  better  memory  would 
have  spared  me  much  needless  alarm.  To  be  sure,  it  is 
not  easy,  is  it,  sir,  to  collect  your  thoughts  in  such  a  den, 
seated  at  the  table  of  a  hangman,  —  a  hangman,  a  crea- 
ture given  over  to  universal  acorn  and  execration,  who 
only  differs  from  an  assassin  in  the  frequency  and  im- 
punity of  his  murders ;  whose  heart  to  all  the  atrocity  of 
the  most  awful  brigands  unites  the  cowardice  of  which 
at  least  their  daring  crimes  do  not  admit;  a  being  who 
offers  food  and  drink  with  the  same  hand  that  wields  the 
instruments  of  torture,  and  crushes  the  bones  of  his  miser- 
able victims  between  the  planks  of  the  rack !  Think  of 
breathing  the  same  air  with  a  hangman  !  And  the  vilest 
beggar,  if  polluted  by  his  loathsome  touch,  would  cast 
aside  with  horror  the  last  rags  which  protected  his  naked- 
ness and  his  disease  from  the  wintry  blast!  And  the 
chancellor,  after  sealing  his  commission,  flings  the  paper 
under  the  table  in  token  of  his  malediction  and  his  dis- 
gust! And  in  France,  when  the  hangman  dies  in  his 
turn,  the  provost's  assistants  would  rather  pay  a  fine  of 
forty  pounds  than  succeed  him!  And  at  Pesth,  when 
Churchill  was  condemned  to  die,  and  they  offered  to  par- 
don him  if  he  would  turn  executioner,  he  preferred  death 
to  such  a  trade.  Is  it  not  still  notorious,  noble  sir,  that 
Turmeryn,  bishop  of  Maestricht,  ordered  a  church  to  be 


HANS  OF  ICELAND.  179 

purified  "because  the  haDgman  had  entered  it;  and  that 
Czarina  Petrowna  washed  her  face  whenever  she  witnessed 
an  execution  ?  You  know  also  that  the  kings  of  France, 
to  honor  warriors,  permit  them  to  be  punished  by  their 
comrades,  so  that  these  brave  men,  even  if  they  be  crimi- 
nals, may  not  be  made  infamous  by  contact  with  the 
hangman.  And  finally,  which  is  decisive,  in  the  '  Descent 
of  Saint  George  into  Hell,*  by  the  learned  Melasius  Itur- 
ham,  does  not  Charon  give  the  robber,  Robin  Hood,  pre- 
cedence over  the  hangman,  Philip  Crass  ?  Truly,  master, 
if  ever  I  attain  to  power,  which  God  alone  can  foresee,  I 
shall  put  down  hangmen,  and  restore  the  ancient  custom 
and  the  ancient  tariff.  For  the  murder  of  a  prince  a  man 
shall  pay,  as  in  1150,  fourteen  hundred  and  forty  double- 
crown  pieces ;  for  the  murder  of  a  count,  fourteen  hundred 
and  forty  plain  crowns ;  for  that  of  a  baron,  fourteen  hun- 
dred and  forty  half-crowns ;  the  killing  of  a  mere  noble 
shall  be  rated  at  fourteen  hundred  and  forty  escalins ;  and 
that  of  a  citizen  —  " 

"  Don't  I  hear  the  tread  of  a  horse  coming  toward  us  ? " 
interrupted  Ordener. 

They  looked  back,  and,  as  day  had  dawned  during  Spia- 
gudry's  long  soliloquy,  they  could  distinguish,  a  hundred 
paces  behind  them,  a  man  dressed  in  black  waving  one 
hand  to  them,  and  with  the  other  urging  on  one  of  those 
small  dingy  white  ponies  so  often  seen,  either  wild  or  do- 
mesticated, in  the  lower  mountain  ranges  of  Norway. 

"  For  mercy's  sake,  master,"  said  the  timid  keeper,  "  let 
us  hasten  ;  that  black  fellow  looks  to  me  just  like  an 
archer ! " 


180  HANS  OF  ICELAND. 

"  What,  old  man ;  we  are  two,  and  we  should  fly  before 
a  single  man  ! " 

"  Alas  I  twenty  sparrows  fly  before  an  owl.  What  glory 
is  there  in  waiting  for  an  officer  of  the  law  ? " 

"And  who  tells  you  that  this  is  one?"  rejoined  Or- 
dener,  whose  eyes  were  not  blinded  by  fear.  "  Keep  up 
your  courage,  my  valiant  guide ;  I  recognize  this  traveller. 
Let  us  wait  for  hii/i." 

The  keeper  was  forced  to  submit.  A  moment  later  the 
horseman  came  up  with  them,  and  Spiagudry  ceased  to 
tremble  when  he  saw  the  grave,  calm  face  of  the  chaplain, 
Athanasius  Munder. 

The  latter  greeted  them  with  a  smile,  and  reined  in  his 
steed,  saying  in  an  almost  breathless  voice,  "  My  dear  chil- 
dren, it  is  for  your  sake  that  I  retrace  my  steps ;  and  the 
Lord  will  surely  not  permit  my  absence,  prolonged  with 
a  charitable  intent,  to  injure  those  who  sorely  need  my 
presence." 

"  Sir  minister,"  answered  Ordener,  "  we  shall  be  happy 
to  aid  you  in  any  way  we  can." 

"  On  the  contrary,  it  is  I,  noble  young  man,  who  desire 
to  serve  you.  Will  you  deign  to  tell  me  the  object  of 
your  journey  ? " 

"  Reverend  sir,  I  cannot.'* 

"AU  I  ask,  my  son,  is  that  your  refusal  may  proceed 
from  inability,  and  not  from  distrust.  If  not,  I  am  indeed 
unhappy !  Unhappy  is  he  whom  the  good  man  distrusts, 
even  if  he  have  seen  him  but  once ! " 

The  priest's  modesty  and  unction  touched  Ordener 
deeply. 


HANS  OF  ICELAND.  181 

"  All  that  I  can  tell  you,  Father,  is  that  we  are  bound  to 
the  mountains  of  the  North." 

"  So  I  thought,  my  son,  and  that  is  why  I  followed  you. 
There  are  bands  of  roving  hunters  and  miners  in  those 
mountains  who  might  injure  travellers." 

"What  then?" 

"Well,  I  know  that  it  is  useless  to  dissuade  a  noble 
young  man  in  search  of  adventure ;  but  the  esteem  I  feel 
for  you  inspires  me  with  another  plan  for  helping  you. 
The  unfortunate  counterfeiter  to  whom  I  bore  the  last 
consolations  of  religion  yesterday  was  a  miner.  Just 
before  he  died  he  gave  me  a  paper  inscribed  with  his 
name,  saying  that  this  passport  would  protect  me  from 
all  danger  if  I  ever  had  to  travel  among  those  mountains. 
Alas !  what  can  it  avail  a  poor  priest  who  must  live  and 
die  among  prisoners,  and  who,  moreover,  inter  castra  latro- 
num,  should  seek  no  other  defence  than  patience  and 
prayer,  the  only  weapons  of  God  1  I  did  not  decline  the 
pass,  because  we  should  never  distress  by  refusal  the 
heart  of  one  who  in  a  few  minutes  more  will  have  nothing 
to  receive  or  to  give  on  earth.  The  good  God  deigned  to 
inspire  me,  for  now  I  can  offer  you  this  parchment,  that  it 
may  go  with  you  in  all  the  perils  of  your  journey,  and  that 
the  gift  of  the  dying  man  may  benefit  the  traveller," 

Ordener  accepted  the  old  priest's  gift  with  emotion. 

"Sir  Chaplain,"  said  he,  "God  grant  that  your  prayer 
may  be  heard !  Thank  you.  But,"  he  added,  laying  his 
hand  on  his  sword,  "  I  already  carry  my  passport  at  my 
side." 

"Young  man,"  said  the  priest,  "that  poor  parchment 


182  HANS  OF   ICELAND. 

may  perhaps  protect  you  better  than  your  steel  blade; 
The  gaze  of  a  penitent  man  is  more  potent  than  the  arch- 
angel's sword.  Farewell !  My  prisoners  await  me.  Pray 
sometimes  for  them  and  me." 

"Holy  priest,"  rejoined  Ordener,  with  a  smile,  "I  told 
you  that  your  prisoners  should  be  pardoned,  and  they 
shall  be." 

"  Oh,  do  not  speak  with  such  assurance,  my  son !  Do 
not  tempt  the  Lord !  No  man  can  know  what  passes  in 
the  mind  of  another,  and  you  cannot  tell  what  the  vice- 
roy's son  may  decide  to  do.  Perhaps,  alas !  he  will  never 
condescend  to  admit  a  humble  chaplain  to  his  presence. 
Farewell,  my  son ;  may  your  journey  be  blessed,  and  may 
you  sometimes  remember  the  poor  priest  and  pray  for  his 
unhappy  prisoners." 


XV. 


Welcome,  Hugo ;  tell  me,  did  you  ever  see  so  terrible  •  atom !  — 
Matttkin  :  Bertram. 


IN"  a  room  communicating  with  the  apartments  of  the 
Governor  of  Throndhjem,  three  of  his  Excellency's 
secretaries  sat  at  a  table  loaded  with  parchments,  papers, 
inkstands,  and  seals,  a  fourth  chair,  left  vacant,  showing 
that  one  of  the  scribes  was  late.  They  had  been  silently 
writing  and  thinking  for  some  time,  when  one  of  them 
exclaimed :  "  Did  you  know,  Wapherney,  that  the  poor 
Hbrarian,  Foxtipp,  is  to  be  dismissed  by  the  bishop,  owing 
to  the  letter  which  you  wrote  recommending  Dr.  Anglyvius's 
petition  to  his  favorable  notice  ? " 

"  What  nonsense  are  you  talking,  Richard  ? "  hastily 
inquired  the  secretary  to  whom  Richard  had  not  spoken. 
"  Waphemey  could  not  have  written  in  favor  of  Anglyvius, 


184  HANS  OF  ICELAND. 

for  the  fellow's  petition  disgusted  the  general  when  T  read 
it  to  him." 

"  So  you  told  me,"  answered  Wapherney ;  "  but  I  found 
the  word  tribuatur'^  written  on  the  petition  in  his  Excel- 
lency's own  hand." 

"  Indeed !  "  exclaimed  the  other. 

"  Yes,  my  dear  fellow ;  and  several  other  of  his  Excel- 
lency's decisions  of  which  you  told  me,  were  also  altered 
in  marginal  notes.  For  instance,  on  the  petition  of  the 
miners,  the  general  wrote,  negetur." 

"  What !  I  can't  understand  that ;  the  general  dreaded 
the  turbulent  spirit  of  those  miners." 

"  Perhaps  he  wanted  to  frighten  them  into  submission 
"by  his  severity.  What  makes  me  think  so  is  that  Chap- 
lain Munder's  request  for  the  pardon  of  twelve  condemned 
prisoners  is  also  refused." 

The  secretary  whom  Wapherney  addressed,  rose  abruptly, 
saying,  "  Oh,  come  now,  I  can't  believe  that ;  the  governor 
is  too  kind,  and  expressed  too  much  compassion  for  those 
prisoners  to  —  " 

"  Very  well,  Arthur,"  answered  Wapherney ;  "  read  it  for 
yourself." 

Arthur  took  the  petition  and  saw  the  fatal  words. 

"  Eeally,"  said  he,  "  I  can  scarcely  credit  my  own  eyes. 
I  must  present  this  to  the  governor  again.  What  day  did 
his  Excellency  mark  these  papers  ? " 

"I  believe  it  was  some  three  days  ago,"  replied 
Wapherney. 

"  That  was,"  said  Richard  in  a  low  voice,  "  the  morning 

^  It  is  granted. 


HANS  OF  ICELAND.  186 

before  Baron  Ordener's  brief  appearance  and  mysteriously 
sudden  disappearance." 

"  Stay  I "  quickly  exclaimed  Waphemey,  before  Arthur 
had  time  to  answer;  "if  here  is  not  another  iribuatur  on 
Benignus  Spiagudry's  ridiculous  petition!" 

Eichard  burst  out  laughing. 

"Didn't  that  old  keeper  of  corpses  disappear  in  a 
strange  way,  too  ? " 

"  Yes,"  replied  Arthur ;  "  a  body  was  found  in  his  char- 
nel-house so  mutilated  that  the  officers  of  the  law  are  in 
pursuit  of  him  on  a  charge  of  sacrilege.  But  a  little  Lapp, 
who  acted  as  his  servant,  and  who  was  left  alone  at  the 
Spladgest,  thinks,  as  do  most  people,  that  the  Devil  car- 
ried him  off  for  a  sorcerer." 

"  Here,"  said  Waphemey,  laughing,  "  is  a  fellow  who 
leaves  a  good  reputation  behind  him!" 

He  had  hardly  had  his  laugh  out  when  the  fourth  secre- 
tary came  in. 

"Upon  my  honor,  Gustavus,  you  are  very  late  this  morn- 
ing.    Did  you  happen  to  get  married  yesterday  ? " 

"  Oh,  no  I "  answered  Wapherney ;  "  he  only  took  the 
longest  way  round,  so  that  he  might  pass  under  the  fair 
Rosalie's  windows  in  his  new  cloak." 

"  Wapherney,"  said  the  new-comer,  "  I  only  wish  that 
you  were  right.  But  the  cause  of  my  delay  is  not  haK  so 
agreeable ;  and  I  doubt  if  my  new  cloak  produced  the 
slightest  effect  upon  the  persons  whom  I  visited." 

"  Where  have  you  been,  then  ?  "  asked  Arthur. 

**  To  the  Spladgest." 

"Heaven  is  my  witness,"  cried  Wapherney,  dropping 


lyt)  HANS  OF  ICELAND. 

his  pen,  "  that  we  were  just  now  speaking  of  that  place  1 
But  though  it  may  be  talked  of  to  pass  away  the  time,  I 
cannot  conceive  how  anybody  can  enter  it." 

"  And  still  less,"  said  Kichard,  "  how  anybody  can  linger 
there.     But  what  did  you  see,  my  dear  Gustavus  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  said  Gustavus,  "  you  are  curious  to  hear  about  it, 
if  not  to  see  it ;  and  it  would  serve  you  right  if  I  refused 
to  describe  those  horrors  which  you  would  shudder  to 
behold." 

The  three  secretaries  crowded  about  Gustavus,  who 
waited  to  be  urged,  although  his  desire  to  tell  what  he  had 
seen  was  secretly  no  less  lively  than  their  curiosity  to 
hear. 

"  Well,  Wapherney,  you  can  repeat  my  story  to  your 
little  sister,  who  is  so  fond  of  frightful  tales.  I  was 
pushed  into  the  Spladgest  by  the  crowd  which  thronged 
about  it.  The  bodies  of  three  soldiers  and  two  bowmen 
from  the  Munkholm  regiment  had  just  been  brought  in, 
ha^dng  been  found  yesterday  some  four  miles  away,  in  the 
ravine  at  the  foot  of  Cascadthymore  cliff.  Some  of  the 
spectators  declared  that  the  poor  fellows  were  the  very 
ones  sent  out  three  days  ago  in  the  direction  of  Skongen 
to  catch  the  runaway  keeper  of  the  Spladgest.  If  this  be 
true,  it  is  impossible  to  imagine  how  so  many  well-armed 
men  could  be  murdered.  The  mutilation  of  the  bodies 
seems  to  prove  that  they  were  flung  from  the  top  of  the 
rocks.     It  made  my  hair  stand  on  end  to  look  at  them." 

"  What,  Gustavus  J  did  you  see  them  ? "  eagerly  inquired 
Wapherney. 

"  They  are  still  before  my  eyes." 


HANS  OF   ICELAND.  187 

"And  has  any  one  an  idea  as  to  the  authors  of  the 
crime  ? " 

"  Some  think  that  it  may  have  been  a  band  of  miners, 
and  assert  that  they  heard  the  sound  of  the  horn  with 
which  the  soldiers  call  to  one  another,  only  yesterday 
among  the  mountains." 

"Really!"  said  Arthur. 

"  Yes ;  but  an  old  peasant  demolished  this  supposition 
by  remarking  that  there  were  neither  mines  nor  miners  in 
the  neighborhood  of  Cascadthymore." 

"  Then  who  could  it  have  been  ? " 

"  No  one  knows.  If  the  bodies  were  not  intact,  it 
might  be  supposed  the  work  of  wild  beasts,  for  their  limbs 
are  covered  with  long,  deep  scratches.  The  same  is  the 
case  with  the  corpse  of  a  white-bearded  old  man  brought 
into  the  Spladgest  day  before  yesterday,  after  that  fearful 
storm  which  prevented  you,  my  dear  Leander  Wapherney, 
from  visiting  your  Hero  across  the  fjord,  on  the  Larsynn 
shore." 

"  All  right,  Gustavus,"  said  Wapherney,  laughing.  "  But 
who  was  this  old  man  ? " 

"  From  his  height,  his  long  white  beard,  and  a  rosary 
still  clasped  tightly  in  his  hands,  although  he  had  been 
stripped  of  everything  else,  he  was  recognized  as  a  her- 
mit of  the  neighborhood ;  I  believe  they  called  him  the 
Monk  of  Lynrass.  It  is  evident  that  this  poor  man  was 
murdered  also ;  but  for  what  purpose  ?  People  are  not 
slaughtered  now  for  their  religious  opinions,  and  the  old 
hermit  possessed  nothing  in  the  world  but  his  serge  gown 
and  the  good-will  of  all  who  knew  him,* 


188  HANS  OF  ICELAND. 

''  And  you  say,"  observed  Richard,  "  that  his  body  was 
mangled,  like  those  of  the  soldiers,  as  if  by  the  claws  of 
some  savage  animal  ? " 

"  Yes,  my  dear  boy ;  and  a  fisherman  declares  that  he 
noticed  the  same  marks  upon  the  body  of  an  officer  found 
murdered  a  few  days  since  upon  Urchtal  Sands." 

"  That  is  strange,"  said  Arthur. 

"  It  is  frightful,"  said  Richard. 

"  Come,"  said  Wapherney,  "  silence,  and  to  work,  for  I 
ihink  the  general  will  be  here  soon.  My  dear  Gustavus, 
I  am  curious  to  see  those  corpses.  If  you  like,  we  will 
stop  a  moment  at  the  Spladgest  when  we  leave  here  this 
evening." 


XVI. 

She  with  young  unwakened  senses, 

Within  her  cabin  on  the  Alpine  field 

Her  simple  homely  life  commences, 

Her  little  world  therein  concealed. 

And  I,  God's  hate  flung  o'er  me, 

Had  not  enough,  to  thrust 

The  stubborn  rocks  before  me 

And  strike  them  into  dust  ! 

She  and  her  peace  I  yet  must  undermine  : 

Thou,  Hell,  hast  claimed  this  sacrifice  as  thine  1 

Goethe  :  Faust,  Bayard  Taylor's  Translation. 

IN"  1675,  twenty-four  years  previous  to  the  date  of  this 
story,  sooth  to  say,  the  whole  village  of  Thoctree 
rejoiced  and  made  merry  over  the  marriage  of  sweet  Lucy 
Pelryhn  and  that  tall,  handsome,  upright  youth,  Carroll 
Stadt.  They  had  long  been  lovers,  and  every  one  felt  a 
warm  interest  in  the  happy  pair  upon  the  day  which  was 
to  change  so  many  restless  hopes  and  eager  longings  into 
assured  and  quiet  bliss.  Born  in  the  same  village,  reared 
in  the  same  fields,  Carroll  had  often  in  their  childhood 
slept  in  Lucy's  lap  when  tired  of  play ;  Lucy  had  often,  as 
a  young  girl,  leaned  on  Carroll's  arm  as  she  returned  from 
work.  Lucy  was  the  loveliest  and  most  modest  maiden 
in  the  land;  Carroll  the  bravest  and  noblest  lad  in  the 
village.     They  loved  each  other,  and  they  could  no  more 


190  HANS  OF  ICELAND. 

remember  the  day  when  their  love  began  than  they  could 
recall  the  day  when  they  were  born. 

But  their  marriage  did  not  come,  like  their  lovo,  easily 
and  as  a  matter  of  course.  There  were  domestic  interests 
to  be  consulted, —  family  feuds,  relations,  obstacles.  They 
were  parted  for  a  whole  year ;  and  Carroll  suffered  sadly 
far  from  Lucy,  and  Lucy  wept  bitter  tears  far  from  Carroll, 
before  the  dawn  of  that  happy  day  which  united  them, 
thereafter  never  to  suffer  or  to  weep  apart. 

It  was  by  saving  her  from  great  danger  that  Carroll 
finally  won  his  Lucy.  He  heard  cries  from  the  woods 
one  day ;  they  were  uttered  by  his  Lucy,  surprised  by  a 
brigand  dreaded  by  all  the  mountain  folk,  and  on  the  point 
of  carrying  her  off  to  his  den.  Carroll  boldly  attacked 
this  monster  in  human  shape,  who  gave  vent  to  strange 
growls  like  those  of  a  wild  beast.  Yes,  he  attacked  the 
wretch,  whom  none  before  had  ventured  to  resist.  Love 
lent  him  a  lion's  strength.  He  rescued  his  beloved  Lucy, 
restored  her  to  her  father,  and  her  father  gave  her  to  her 
deliverer. 

Now,  the  whole  village  made  merry  upon  the  day  which 
united  these  two  lovers.  Lucy  alone  seemed  depressed ; 
and  yet  never  had  she  gazed  more  tenderly  at  her  dear 
CarrolL  But  her  gaze  was  as  sad  as  it  was  loving,  and 
amid  the  universal  rejoicing  this  was  a  subject  for  surprise. 
Every  moment,  as  her  husband's  happiness  seemed  to  in- 
crease, her  eyes  expressed  more  and  more  love  and  despair. 

"  Oh,  my  Lucy,"  said  Carroll,  when  the  sacred  rites  were 
over,  "  the  coming  of  that  robber,  a  curse  to  the  entire 
countiy,  was  the  greatest  blessing  for  me  ! " 


HANS  OF  ICELAND.  191 

She  shook  her  head,  and  made  no  answer. 

Night  came ;  they  were  left  alone  in  their  new  abode, 
and  the  sports  and  dancing  on  the  village  green  went  on 
more  merrily  than  before,  to  celebrate  the  happiness  of  the 
bridal  pair. 

Next  morning  Carroll  Stadt  had  vanished.  A  few 
words  in  his  handwriting  were  brought  to  Lucy's  father 
by  a  hunter  from  the  mountains  of  Kiolen,  who  met  him 
before  daylight  wandering  along  the  shore  of  the  fjord. 

Old  Will  Pelryhn  showed  the  paper  to  his  pastor  and 
the  mayor,  and  nothing  was  left  of  last  night's  festival 
but  Lucy's  gloom  and  dull  despair. 

This  mysterious  catastrophe  dismayed  the  entire  village, 
and  vain  efforts  were  made  to  explain  it.  Prayers  for 
Carroll's  soul  were  said  in  the  same  church  where  but  a 
few  days  before  he  himself  sang  hymns  of  thanksgiving 
for  his  happiness. 

No  one  knew  what  kept  Widow  Stadt  alive.  At  the 
end  of  nine  months  of  solitary  grief  she  brought  into  the 
world  a  son,  and  on  the  same  day  the  village  of  Golyn  was 
destroyed  by  the  fall  of  the  hanging  cliff  above  it. 

The  birth  of  this  son  did  not  dissipate  his  mother's  deep 
depression.  Gill  Stadt  showed  no  signs  of  resemblance  to 
Carroll.  His  fierce,  angry  infancy  seemed  to  prophecy  a 
still  more  ferocious  manhood.  Sometimes  a  little  wild 
man  —  whom  those  mountaineers  who  saw  him  from  a 
distance  asserted  to  be  the  famous  Hans  of  Iceland  —  en- 
tered the  lonely  hut  of  Carroll's  widow,  and  the  passers- 
by  would  then  hear  a  woman's  shrieks  and  what  seemed 
the  roar  of  a  tiger.     The  man  would   carry  off  young 


192  HANS  OF  ICELAND. 

Gill,  and  months  would  elapse ;  then  he  would  restore 
him  to  his  mother,  more  sombre  and  more  terrible  than 
before. 

"Widow  Stadt  felt  a  mixture  of  horror  and  affection  for 
the  child.  Sometimes  she  would  clasp  him  in  her  ma- 
ternal arms,  as  the  only  tie  which  still  bound  her  to  earth ; 
again  she  would  repulse  him  with  terror,  calling  upon 
Carroll,  her  dear  Carroll,  No  one  in  the  world  knew  what 
agitated  her  soul. 

Gill  reached  his  twenty-third  year;  he  saw  Guth 
Stersen,  and  loved  her  madly. 

Guth  Stersen  was  rich,  and  he  was  poor ;  therefore  he 
set  off  for  Eoeraas  and  turned  miner,  in  order  to  make 
money.     His  mother  never  heard  from  him  again. 

One  night  she  sat  at  the  wheel,  by  which  she  earned 
her  daily  bread  ;  the  lamp  burned  low  as  she  worked  and 
waited  in  her  cabin,  beneath  those  walls  which  had  grown 
old  like  herself,  in  solitude  and  grief,  the  silent  witnesses 
of  her  mysterious  wedding-night.  She  thought  anxiously 
of  her  son,  whose  presence,  ardently  desired  as  it  was, 
would  recall  much  soitow,  perhaps  bring  more  in  its 
train.  The  poor  mother  loved  her  son,  ungrateful  as  he 
was.  And  how  could  she  help  loving  him,  she  had  suffered 
so  much  for  him  ? 

She  rose  and  took  from  an  antique  wardrobe  a  crucifix 
thickly  coated  with  dust.  For  an  instant  she  looked  at 
it  imploringly  ;  then  suddenly  casting  it  from  her  in  hor- 
ror, she  cried :  "  I  pray !  How  can  I  pray  ?  Your  prayers 
can  only  be  addressed  to  hell,  poor  woman !  You  belong 
to  hell,  and  to  hell  alone." 


HANS  OF  ICELAND,  193 

She  had  relapsed  into  her  mournful  revery,  when  there 
was  a  knock  at  the  door. 

This  was  a  rare  event  with  Widow  Stadt.  For  many  long 
years,  in  consequence  of  the  strange  incidents  connected 
with  her  history,  the  whole  village  of  Thoctree  believed 
that  she  had  dealings  with  evil  spirits ;  no  one  therefore 
ever  ventured  near  her  hut, —  strange  superstitions  of  that 
age  and  ignorant  region !  She  owed  to  her  misfortunes 
the  same  reputation  for  witchcraft  that  the  keeper  of  the 
Spladgest  owed  to  his  learning. 

"  What  if  it  were  my  son,  if  it  were  Gill  I "  she  ex- 
claimed; and  she  rushed  to  the  door. 

Alas  !  it  was  not  her  son.  It  was  a  little  monk  clad  in 
serge,  his  cowl  covering  all  of  his  face  but  a  black  beard. 

"  Holy  man,"  said  the  widow,  "  what  would  you  have  ? 
You  do  not  know  the  house  to  which  you  come." 

"  Yes,  truly  ! "  replied  the  hermit  in  a  hoarse  and  all  too 
familiar  voice. 

And  tearing  off  his  gloves,  his  black  beard,  and  his  cowl, 
he  revealed  a  fierce  countenance,  a  red  beard,  and  a  pair  of 
hands  armed  with  tremendous  claws. 

"  Oh  ! "  cried  the  widow,  burying  her  head  in  her  hands. 

"  Well,"  said  the  little  man,  "  have  you  not  in  four-and- 
twenty  years  grown  used  to  seeing  the  husband  upon 
whom  you  must  gaze  through  all  eternity  ? " 

"  Through  all  eternity ! "  she  repeated  in  a  terrified 
whisper. 

"  Hark  ye,  Lucy  Pelryhn,  I  bring  you  news  of  your 
son." 

*'  My  son  I    Where  is  he  ?    Why  does  he  not  come  ?  * 

VOL.  IX. — 13 


194  HANS  OF  ICELAND. 

"  He  cannot." 

"  But  you  have  news  of  him.  I  thank  you.  Alas  !  and 
can  you  bring  me  pleasure  ? " 

"They  are  pleasant  tidings  indeed  that  I  bring  you,'* 
said  the  man  in  hollow  tones ;  "  for  you  are  a  weak 
woman,  and  I  wonder  that  you  could  bring  forth  such  a 
son.  Eejoice  and  be  glad.  You  feared  that  your  son 
would  follow  in  my  footsteps;  fear  no  longer." 

"  What ! "  cried  the  enraptured  mother,  "  has  my  son, 
my  beloved  Gill,  changed  ? " 

The  hermit  watched  her  raptures  with  an  ominous  sneer. 

"  Oh,  greatly  changed ! "  said  he. 

"  And  why  did  he  not  fly  to  my  arms  ?  Where  did  you 
see  him  ?    What  was  he  doing  ? " 

"  He  was  asleep." 

In  the  excess  of  her  joy,  the  widow  did  not  notice  the 
little  man's  ominous  look,  nor  his  horrible  and  scoffing 
manner. 

"  Why  did  you  not  wake  him  ?  Why  did  not  you  say 
to  him, '  Gill,  come  to  your  mother  ? ' " 

"  His  sleep  was  too  sound." 

"  Oh,  when  will  he  come  ?  Tell  me,  I  implore,  if  I  shall 
see  him  soon." 

The  mock  monk  drew  from  beneath  his  gown  a  sort  of 
cup  of  singular  shape. 

"There,  widow,"  said  he,  "drink  to  your  son's  speedy 
return ! " 

The  widow  uttered  a  shriek  of  horror.  It  was  a  human 
skulL  She  waved  it  away  in  terror,  and  could  not  utter 
a  word. 


HANS  OF  ICELAND.  190 

"  No,  no  I "  abruptly  exclaimed  the  man,  in  an  awful 
voice,  "  do  not  turn  away  your  eyes,  woman ;  look.  You 
asked  to  see  your  son.  Look,  I  sayl  for  this  is  all  that 
is  left  of  him." 

And  by  the  red  light  of  the  lamp,  he  offered  the  dry 
and  fleshless  skull  of  her  son  to  the  mother's  pale  lips. 

Too  many  waves  of  misfortune  had  passed  over  her  soul 
for  one  misery  the  more  to  crush  her.  She  gazed  at  the 
cruel  monk  with  a  fixed  and  meaningless  stare. 

"  Dead  1 "  she  whispered ;  "  dead  !     Then  let  me  die." 

"  Die,  if  you  choose  1  But  remember,  Lucy  Pelryhn, 
Thoctree  woods ;  remember  the  day  when  the  demon, 
taking  possession  of  your  body,  gave  your  soul  to  hell ! 
I  am  that  demon,  Lucy,  and  you  are  my  wife  forever! 
Kow,  die  if  you  will." 

It  is  the  belief  in  those  superstitious  regions  that  in- 
fernal spirits  sometimes  appear  among  men  to  lead  lives 
of  crime  and  calamity.  In  common  with  other  noted 
criminals,  Hans  of  Iceland  enjoyed  this  fearful  renown. 
It  was  also  believed  that  a  woman,  who  by  seduction  or 
by  violence,  became  the  prey  of  one  of  these  monsters  in 
human  form,  by  that  misfortune  was  doomed  to  be  his 
companion  in  hell. 

The  events  of  which  the  hermit  reminded  the  widow 
seemed  to  revive  in  her  these  thoughts. 

"  Alas  !  "  she  sobbed,  "  then  I  cannot  escape  from  this 
wretched  existence  !  And  what  have  I  done  ?  for  you 
know,  my  beloved  Carroll,  I  am  innocent.  A  young  girl's 
arm  is  without  strength  to  resist  the  arm  of  a  demon." 

She  rambled  on ;  her  eyes  were  wild  with  delirium,  and 


196  HANS  OF  ICELAND. 

her  incoherent  words  seemed  bom  of  the  convulsive  quiver 
of  her  lips. 

"Yes,  Carroll,  since  that  day,  though  polluted,  I  am 
innocent ;  and  the  demon  asks  me  if  I  remember  that 
horrible  day!  Carroll,  I  never  deceived  you;  you  came 
too  late.  I  was  his  before  I  was  yours,  alas !  Alas  I  and 
I  must  be  forever  punished.  No,  I  can  never  rejoin 
you, — you  for  whom  I  weep.  What  would  it  avail  me 
to  die  ?  I  should  follow  this  monster  into  a  world  as 
fearful  as  himself,  —  the  world  of  the  damned !  And 
what  have  I  done  ?  Must  my  misfortunes  in  this  life 
become  my  crimes  in  the  next  ? " 

The  little  monk  bent  a  look  of  triumph  and  command 
upon  her  face. 

"  Ah  ! "  she  suddenly  exclaimed,  turning  toward  him ; 
"ah,  tell  me,  is  not  this  some  fearful  dream  induced  by 
your  presence  ?  For  you  know  but  too  well,  alas !  that 
since  the  day  of  my  ruin,  every  night  that  I  am  visited 
by  your  fatal  spirit  is  marked  by  foul  apparitions,  awful 
dreams,  and  frightful  visions." 

"  Woman,  woman,  cease  your  raving ;  it  is  as  true  that 
you  are  wide  awake  as  it  is  true  that  Gill  is  dead." 

The  memory  of  her  past  misfortunes  had,  as  it  were, 
blotted  out  aU  thought  of  her  fresh  grief;  these  words 
revived  it. 

"  Oh,  my  son !  my  son ! "  she  moaned ;  and  the  tones  of 
her  voice  would  have  moved  any  but  the  wicked  being 
who  heard  it.  "No,  he  will  return;  he  is  not  dead;  I 
cannot  believe  that  he  is  dead." 

"  Well,  go  ask  him  of  Eoeraas  rocks,  which  crushed  out 


HAIJS  OF  ICELAND.  197 

his  life;  of  Throndhjem  Fjord,  which  swallowed  up  hia 
body." 

The  widow  fell  upon  her  knees,  crying  convulsively, 
"God I  great  God!" 

"  Be  silent,  servant  of  hell ! " 

The  wretched  woman  was  silent.  He  added:  "Do 
not  doubt  your  son's  death;  he  was  punished  for  the 
sins  of  his  father.  He  let  his  granite  heart  melt  in 
the  sunlight  of  a  woman's  eyes.  I  possessed  you,  but  I 
never  loved  you.  Your  Carroll's  misfortune  was  also  his. 
My  son  and  yours  was  deceived  by  his  betrothed,  by  her 
for  whom  he  died." 

"  Died ! "  she  repeated,  "  died !  Then  it  is  really  true  ? 
^h,  Gill,  you  were  born  of  my  misery;  you  were  con- 
<*,eived  in  terror  and  born  in  sorrow ;  your  lips  lacerated 
my  breast ;  as  a  child,  you  never  returned  my  caresses  or 
embraces ;  you  always  shunned  and  repulsed  your  mother, 
your  lonely  and  forsaken  mother !  You  never  tried  to 
make  me  forget  my  past  distress,  save  by  causing  me  fresh 
injury.  You  deserted  me  for  the  demon  author  of  your 
existence  and  of  my  widowhood.  Never,  in  long  years. 
Gill,  never  did  you  procure  me  one  thrill  of  pleasure ;  and 
yet  to-day  your  death,  my  son,  seems  to  me  the  most 
insupportable  of  all  my  afflictions.  Your  memory  to-day 
seems  to  me  to  be  twined  with  comfort  and  rapture. 
Alas!  alas!" 

She  could  not  go  on;  she  covered  her  head  with  her 
coarse  black  woollen  veil,  and  sobbed  bitterly. 

"  Weak  woman ! "  muttered  the  hermit ;  then  he  con- 
tinued in  a  firm  voice:  "Control  your  grief;  I  laugh  at 


198  HANS  OF   ICELAND. 

mine.  Listen,  Lucy  Pelryhn.  While  you  still  weep  for 
your  son,  I  have  already  begun  to  avenge  him.  It  was 
for  a  soldier  in  the  Monkholm  regiment  that  his  sweet- 
heart betrayed  him.  The  whole  regiment  shall  perish  by 
my  hands.     Look,  Lucy  Pelryhn ! " 

He  had  rolled  up  the  sleeves  of  his  gown,  and  showed 
the  widow  his  misshapen  arms  stained  with  blood. 

"Yes,"  he  said  with  a  fierce  roar,  "Gill's  spirit  shall 
delight  to  haunt  Urchtal  Sands  and  Cascadthymore 
2avine.  Come,  woman,  do  you  not  see  this  blood  ?  Be 
tomforted  ! " 

Then  all  at  once,  as  if  struck  by  a  sudden  thoitght,  he 
interrupted  himself :  "  Widow,  did  you  not  receive  an  iron 
casket  from  me  ?  What !  I  sent  you  gold  and  I  bring 
you  blood,  and  you  still  weep.     Are  you  not  human  ? " 

The  widow,  absorbed  in  her  despair,  was  silent. 

"  What ! "  said  he,  with  a  fierce  laugh,  "  motionless  and 
mute.  You  are  no  woman,  then,  Lucy  Pelryhn ! "  and  he 
*hook  her  by  the  arm  to  rouse  her.  "Did  not  a  mes- 
senger bring  you  an  iron  casket  ? " 

The  widow,  lending  him  a  brief  attention,  shook  her 
head,  and  relapsed  into  her  gloomy  revery. 

**  Ah,  the  wretch  !  "  cried  the  little  man,  "  the  miserable 
traitor !     Spiagudry,  that  gold  shall  cost  you  dear ! " 

And  stripping  off  his  gown,  he  rushed  from  the  hut  with 
the  growl  of  a  hyena  that  scents  a  corpse. 


XVIL 

My  lord,  I  braid  my  hair  ;  I  braid  it  with  salt  tears  because  you  leave 
me  alone,  and  because  you  go  hence  into  the  hills.  —  The  Count's  Lady 
(Old  Romance). 

ETHEL,  meantime,  had  already  reckoned  four  long  and 
weary  days  since  she  was  left  to  wander  alone  in 
the  dark  garden  of  Schleswig  tower ;  alone  in  the  oratory, 
the  witness  of  so  many  tears,  the  confidant  of  so  many 
longings  ;  alone  in  the  long  gallery,  where  once  upon  a 
time  she  had  failed  to  hear  the  midnight  bell.  Her  aged 
father  sometimes  accompanied  her,  but  she  was  none  the 
less  alone,  for  the  true  companion  of  her  life  was  absent. 

Unfortunate  young  girl  !  What  had  that  pure  young 
soul  done  that  it  should  be  thus  early  given  over  to  so 
much  sorrow  ?  Taken  from  the  world,  from  honors,  riches, 
youthful  delights,  and  from  the  triumphs  of  beauty,  she 
was  still  in  the  cradle  when  she  was  already  in  a  prison 
cell;  a  captive  with  her  captive  father,  she  had  grown  up 
"watching  his  decay ;  and  to  complete  her  misery,  that  she 
might  not  be  ignorant  of  any  form  of  bondage,  love  had 
sought  her  out  in  prison. 

Even  then,  could  she  but  have  kept  her  Ordener  at  her 
side,  would  liberty  have  tempted  her  ?  Would  she  ever 
have  known  that  a  world  existed  from  which  she  was  cut 
off?     Moreover,  would  not  her  world,  her  heaven,  have 


200  HANS  OF  ICELAND. 

been  with  her  in  that  narrow  keep,  within  those  gloomy- 
towers  bristling  with  soldiers,  toward  which  the  passer-by 
would  still  have  cast  a  pitying  glance  ? 

But,  alas  !  for  the  second  time  her  Ordener  was  absent ; 
and  instead  of  spending  all  too  brief  but  ever  recurring 
hours  with  him  in  holy  caresses  and  chaste  embraces,  she 
passed  days  and  nights  in  bewailing  his  absence,  and  pray- 
ing that  he  might  be  shielded  from  danger.  For  a  maiden 
has  only  her  prayers  and  her  tears. 

Sometimes  she  longed  for  the  wings  of  the  free  swallow 
which  came  to  her  to  be  fed  through  her  prison  bars. 
Sometimes  her  thought  escaped  upon  the  cloud  which  a 
swift  breeze  drove  northward  through  the  sky ;  then  sud- 
denly she  would  turn  away  her  head  and  cover  her  eyes,  as 
if  she  dreaded  to  see  a  gigantic  brigand  appear  and  begin  the 
unequal  contest  upon  one  of  the  distant  mountains  whose 
blue  peaks  hung  on  the  horizon  like  a  stationary  cloud. 

Oh,  it  is  cruel  to  live  when  we  are  parted  from  the 
object  of  our  love  !  Few  hearts  have  known  this  pang  in 
all  its  extent,  because  few  hearts  have  known  love  in  all 
its  depth.  Then;  in  some  sort  a  stranger  to  our  ordinary 
existence,  we  create  for  ourselves  a  melancholy  waste,  a 
vast  solitude,  and  for  the  absent  one  some  terrible  world 
of  peril,  of  monsters,  and  of  deceit ;  the  various  faculties 
which  make  up  our  being  are  changed  into  and  lost  in  an 
infinite  longing  for  the  missing  one ;  everything  about  us 
seems  utterly  indifferent  to  us.  And  yet  we  still  breathe, 
and  move,  and  act,  but  without  our  own  volition.  Like  a 
wandering  planet  which  has  lost  its  sun,  the  body  moves 
at  random ;  the  soul  is  elsewhere. 


xvin. 


On  a  vast  buckler  those  relentless  Tana 

Terrified  hell  with  fearful  oaths  ; 

And  beside  a  black  bull  which  they  had  slain, 

All,  bathing  their  hands  in  blood,  swore  to  be  revenged. 

TTie  Seven  Chiefs  before  Thebas, 


THE  coast  of  Norway  abounds  in  narrow  bays,  in 
creeks,  coves,  reefs,  lagoons,  and  little  headlands 
80  numerous  as  to  weary  the  traveller's  memory  and  the 
topographer's  patience.  Formerly,  if  we  are  to  credit 
popular  tradition,  every  isthmus  was  haunted  by  some 
demon,  each  bay  inhabited  by  some  fairy,  each  promon- 
tory protected  by  some  saint ;  superstition  mingles  all  be- 
liefs to  create  for  itself  imaginary  terrors.  Upon  Kelvel 
strand,  some  miles  to  the  north  of  Walderhog  cave,  there 
was  but  a  single  spot,  they  said,  which  was  free  from  all 
jurisdiction  either  of  infernal,  intermediary/ or  celestial 


202  HANS  OM  ICELAND.' 

spirits.  It  was  the  glade  lying  along  the  shore,  over- 
hung by  a  cliff,  on  the  top  of  which  could  still  be  seen 
vestif^es  of  the  manor  of  Ealph,  or  Eudolf,  the  Giant. 
This  little  wild  meadow,  bordered  on  the  west  by  the 
sea,  and  closely  shut  in  by  rocks  clad  with  heather, 
owed  its  exemption  solely  to  the  name  of  that  ancient 
Norwegian  lord,  its  first  possessor.  Jot  what  fairy,  what 
devil,  or  what  angel  would  venture  to  become  master  or 
guest  of  a  domain  once  occupied  and  guarded  by  Ealph 
the  Giant? 

It  is  true  that  the  mere  name  of  the  much  dreaded 
Ealph  sufficed  to  give  an  alarming  character  to  a  region 
wild  in  itself.  But  after  all,  a  memory  is  not  so  much 
to  be  feared  as  a  spirit ;  and  no  fisher,  belated  in  rough 
weather,  and  mooring  his  bark  in  Ealph' s  creek,  had  ever 
seen  the  will-o'-the-wisp  sport  and  dance  upon  the  summit 
I>f  a  rock,  or  a  fairy  ride  through  the  heather  in  her  phos- 
phorescent car  drawn  by  glow-worms,  or  a  saint  ascend 
toward  the  moon,  after  his  prayers  were  said. 

And  yet,  if  the  angry  waves  and  wind  had  allowed  a 
wandering  mariner  to  land  in  that  hospitable  harbor  upon 
the  night  after  the  great  storm,  he  might  have  been  struck 
with  superstitious  fear  at  the  sight  of  three  men,  who 
upon  that  same  night  sat  around  a  huge  fire,  blazing  in 
the  middle  of  the  meadow.  Two  of  them  wore  the  broad 
felt  hat  and  loose  trousers  of  royal  miners.  Their  arms 
were  bare  to  the  shoulder,  their  feet  were  cased  in  fawn- 
colored  leather  boots ;  a  red  sash  held  their  crooked  swords 
and  heavy  pistols ;  each  had  a  hunter's  horn  slung  about 
his  neck.     One  was  old,  the  other  was  y<*iRg;  the  old 


HANS  OF  ICELAND.  203 

man's  thick  beard  and  the  young  man's  long  hair  lent 
a  wild  and  barbarous  look  to  their  faces,  which  were 
naturally  hard  and  stern. 

By  his  bearskin  cap,  his  tanned  leather  jacket,  the  mus- 
ket slung  across  his  back,  his  short,  tight-fitting  drawers, 
his  bare  knees,  his  bark  shoes,  and  the  glittering  axe  in 
his  hand,  it  was  easy  to  guess  that  the  companion  of  the 
two  miners  was  a  mountaineer  from  the  north  of  Norway. 

Certainly,  any  one  who  saw  from  afar  these  three  weird 
figures,  upon  which  the  flames,  fanned  by  the  salt  breeze, 
cast  a  red,  flickering  light,  might  well  have  been  fright- 
ened, even  had  he  no  faith  in  spectres  and  demons ;  it 
would  have  been  enough  that  he  believed  in  thieves  and 
•was  somewhat  richer  than  the  ordinary  poet. 

The  three  men  constantly  turned  their  heads  toward 
the  winding  path  through  the  wood  which  fringes  Ralph's 
meadow,  and  judging  by  such  of  their  words  as  were  not 
carried  off  by  the  wind,  they  were  expecting  a  fourth 
person. 

"I  say,  Kennybol,  do  you  know  that  we  should  not 
he  allowed  to  wait  so  peacefully  for  this  envoy  from 
Count  Griffenfeld,  if  we  were  in  the  neighboring  meadow. 
Goblin  Tulbytilbet's  meadow,  or  yonder  in  St.  Cuthbert's 
bay?" 

"  Don't  talk  so  loud,  Jonas,"  replied  the  mountaineer ; 
"  blessed  be  Ealph  the  Giant,  who  protects  us !  Heaven 
save  me  from  setting  foot  in  Tulbytilbet's  meadow  I  The 
other  day  I  thought  I  was  picking  hawthorn  there,  and  I 
gathered  mandrake  instead,  which  began  to  bleed  and 
shriek,  and  nearly  drove  me  mad.* 


/204  HANS  OF  ICELAND. 

The  young  miner  laughed. 

"Nearly,  Kennybol?  For  my  part,  I  think  that  the 
mandrake's  shriek  produced  its  full  effect  upon  your  feeble 
brains." 

"  Feeble  brains  yourself ! "  said  the  vexed  mountaineer ; 
"just  see,  Jonas,  he  jests  at  mandrake.  He  laughs  like  a 
lunatic  playing  with  a  death's-head." 

"  Hum ! "  answered  Jonas.  "  Let  him  go  to  Walderhog 
cave,  where  the  heads  of  those  whom  Hans,  the  foul  fiend 
of  Iceland,  has  murdered,  come  back  every  night  to  dance 
about  his  bed  of  withered  leaves,  and  gnash  their  teeth 
to  luU  him  to  sleep." 

"  That 's  so,"  said  the  mountaineer. 

"  But,"  rejoined  the  young  man,  "  did  not  Mr.  Hacket, 
for  whom  we  are  waiting,  promise  us  that  Hans  of  Iceland 
would  take  the  lead  in  our  rebellion  ? " 

"  He  did,"  replied  Kennybol ;  "  and  with  the  help  of 
that  demon  we  are  sure  to  conquer  the  green  jackets  of 
Throndhjem  and  Copenhagen." 

"  So  much  the  better  ! "  cried  the  old  miner.  "  But  I  *m 
not  the  man  to  stand  guard  beside  him  at  night." 

At  this  moment  the  rustle  of  dead  leaves  beneath  the 
tread  of  a  man  drew  the  attention  of  the  speakers ;  they 
turned,  and  the  firelight  gleamed  on  the  new-comer's  face. 

"  It  is  he !  it  is  Mr.  Hacket !  Welcome,  Mr.  Hacket ; 
you  have  kept  us  waiting.  We  have  been  here  this  three 
quarters  of  an  hour." 

"  Mr.  Hacket "  was  a  short,  fat  man,  dressed  in  black, 
and  his  jovial  countenance  wore  a  forbidding  expression. 

"  Well,  friends,"  said  he,  "  I  was  delayed  by  my  igno- 


HANS  OF  ICELAND.  205 

ranee  of  the  road  and  the  necessary  precautions.  I  left 
Count  Schumacker  this  morning ;  here  are  three  purses  of 
gold  which  he  bade  me  give  you." 

The  two  old  men  flung  themselves  upon  the  gold  with 
the  eagerness  common  among  the  peasants  of  barren  Nor- 
way. The  young  miner  declined  the  purse  which  Hacket 
offered  him. 

"  Keep  your  gold,  Sir  Envoy ;  I  should  lie  if  I  said  that 
I  had  joined  the  revolt  for  your  Count  Schumacker's 
sake.  I  rebel  to  free  the  miners  from  the  guardianship 
of  the  crown;  I  rebel  that  my  mother's  bed  may  have 
a  blanket  less  ragged  than  the  coast  of  our  good  country, 
Norway." 

Far  from  seeming  disconcerted,  Mr.  Hacket  answered 
smilingly,  "Then  I  will  send  this  money  to  your  poor 
mother,  my  dear  Norbith,  so  that  she  may  have  two  new 
blankets  to  shield  her  from  the  cold  wind  this  winter.'* 

The  young  man  assented  with  a  nod,  and  the  envoy,  like 
a  skilful  orator,  made  haste  to  add :  — 

"  But  be  careful  not  to  repeat  what  you  just  now  incon- 
siderately said,  that  you  are  not  taking  up  arms  in  behalf 
of  Schumacker,  Count  Griffenfeld." 

"But  —  but,"  muttered  the  two  old  men,  "we  know 
very  well  that  the  miners  are  oppressed,  but  we  know 
nothing  about  this  count,  this  prisoner  of  state." 

"  What !  "  sharply  rejoined  the  envoy ;  "  are  you  so  un- 
grateful ?  You  groan  in  your  subterranean  caves,  deprived 
of  light  and  air,  robbed  of  all  your  property,  slaves  to  the 
most  onerous  tutelage  !  Who  came  to  your  rescue  ?  Who 
revived  your  failing  courage?    Who  gave  you  gold  and 


206  HANS  OF  ICELAND. 

arms  ?  Was  it  not  my  illustrious  master,  noble  Count 
Griffenfeld,  more  of  a  slave  and  more  unfortunate  even 
than  you  ?  And  now,  loaded  with  his  favors,  would  you 
refuse  to  use  them  to  acquire  his  liberty  with  your  own  ? " 

"You  are  right,"  interrupted  the  young  miner;  "that 
would  be  an  ill  deed." 

"Yes,  Mr.  Hacket,"  said  the  two  old  men,  "we  will 
fight  for  Count  Schumacker." 

"  Courage,  my  friends !  Kise  in  his  name ;  bear  your 
benefactor's  name  from  one  end  of  Norway  to  the  other. 
Only  listen ;  everything  seconds  your  righteous  enterprise ; 
you  are  about  to  be  freed  from  a  formidable  enemy,  Gen- 
eral Levin  de  Knud,  governor  of  the  province.  The  secret 
power  of  my  noble  master.  Count  Griffenfeld,  will  soon 
procure  his  recall  to  Bergen.  Come,  teU  me,  Kennybol, 
Jonas,  and  you,  my  dear  Norbith,  are  all  your  comrades 
ready  ? " 

"  My  brethren  of  Guldbrandsdal,"  said  Norbith,  "  only 
await  my  signal.     To-morrow,  if  you  wish  —  " 

"  To-morrow ;  so  be  it.  The  young  miners  under  your 
leadership  must  be  the  first  to  raise  the  standard.  And 
you,  my  brave  Jonas  ? " 

"Six  hundred  heroes  from  the  Faroe  Islands,  who  for 
three  days  have  lived  on  chamois  flesh  and  bear's  fat  in 
Bennallag  forest,  only  ask  a  blast  from  the  horn  of  their 
old  captain,  Jonas  of  Loevig  town." 

"  Good !    And  you,  Kennybol  ? " 

"All  those  who  carry  an  axe  in  the  gorges  of  Kiolen, 
and  climb  the  rocks  with  bare  knees,  are  ready  to  join 
their  brothers,  the  miners,  when  they  need  them." 


HANS  OF  ICELAND.  207 

"Enough.  Tell  your  comrades  that  they  need  not  doubt 
their  victory,"  added  the  envoy,  raising  his  voice ;  "  for 
Hans  of  Iceland  will  be  their  captain." 

"  Is  that  certain  ? "  asked  all  three  at  once,  in  a  voice 
of  mingled  hope  and  fear. 

The  envoy  answered :  "  I  will  meet  you  four  days  hence, 
at  the  same  hour,  with  your  united  forces,  in  Apsyl-Corh 
mine,  near  Lake  Miosen,  on  Blue  Star  plain.  Hans  of 
Iceland  will  be  with  me." 

"  We  will  be  there,"  said  the  three  leaders.  "  And  may 
God  not  desert  those  whom  the  Devil  aids  ! " 

"  Fear  nothing  from  God,"  said  Racket,  with  a  sneer. 
"  Stay ;  you  will  find  flags  for  your  troops  among  the  ruins 
of  Crag.  Do  not  forget  the  war-cry,  'Long  live  Schu- 
macker  !  We  will  rescue  Schumacker  !  *  Now  we  must 
part ;  day  will  shortly  break.  But  first,  swear  the  most 
profound  secrecy  as  to  what  has  passed  between  us." 

Without  a  word  each  of  the  three  chiefs  opened  a  vein 
in  his  left  arm  with  the  point  of  his  sword  ;  then,  seizing 
the  envoy's  hand,  each  let  a  few  drops  of  blood  trickle 
into  it. 

"  You  have  our  blood,"  they  said. 

Then  the  young  man  exclaimed :  "  May  all  my  blood 
flow  forth  like  that  which  1  now  shed ;  may  a  malicious 
spirit  destroy  my  plans,  as  the  hurricane  does  a  straw; 
may  my  arm  be  of  lead  to  avenge  an  insult;  may  bats 
dwell  in  my  tomb  ;  may  I,  still  living,  be  haunted  by  the 
dead,  and  dead,  be  profaned  by  the  living ;  may  my  eyes 
melt  with  tears  like  those  of  a  woman,  if  ever  I  speak 
of  what  has  occurred  at  this  time  in  Ealph  the  Giant's 


208  HANS  OF  ICELAND. 

meadow.  And  may  the  blessed  saints  deign  to  hear  this, 
my  prayer !  ** 

"  Amen  1 "  repeated  the  two  old  men. 

Then  they  parted,  and  nothing  was  left  in  the  meadow 
hut  the  smouldering  fire,  whose  expiring  embers  burned 
up  at  intervals,  and  gleamed  upon  the  summit  of  Ealph 
the  Giant's  ruined  and  deserted  towers. 


XIX. 


Theodore.   Tristam,  let  us  be  gon& 
Tristam.   This  is  a  strange  disgrace. 
Theodore.    Did  any  one  see  us ! 
Tristam.   I  know  not,  but  I  fear  they  did. 

Lope  da  Vega  :  The  Gardener'$  Dog. 


BEMGNUS  SPIAGUDRY  found  it  hard  to  guess  the 
motives  which  led  a  youth  of  fine  appearance,  and 
apparently  likely  to  live  for  many  long  years,  to  become 
the  voluntary  antagonist  of  the  much-dreaded  Hans  of 
Iceland.  He  had  frequently  and  with  much  ingenuity 
.  broached  the  question  since  they  started  on  their  travels ; 
but  the  young  adventurer  preserved  a  stubborn  silence  as 
to  the  cause  of  his  journey.  Nor  was  the  poor  fellow 
any  more  successful  in  satisfying  his  curiosity  concerning 
various  other  details  as  to  his  strange  comrade.  Once 
he  ventured  to  ask  a  question  about  his  young  master's 

VOL.  IX. — 14 


210  HANS  OF  ICELAND. 

iamily  and  his  name.  "  Call  me  Ordener,"  was  the  reply ; 
and  this  very  unsatisfactory  answer  was  given  in  a  tone 
which  forbade  further  question.  He  was  forced  to  submit ; 
every  one  has  his  secrets,  and  good  Spiagudry  himself 
carefully  concealed  in  his  wallet,  under  his  cloak,  a  certain 
mysterious  casket,  any  inquiry  as  to  which  he  would  cer- 
tainly have  considered  very  disagreeable  and  greatly  out 
of  place. 

Four  days  had  passed  since  they  left  Throndhjem,  but 
they  had  made  little  progress,  owing  to  the  bad  state  of 
the  roads  after  the  storm,  and  the  multiplicity  of  cross- 
cuts and  roundabout  routes  which  the  runaway  keeper 
thought  it  prudent  to  take  in  order  to  avoid  too  thickly 
settled  regions.  Leaving  Skongen  on  their  right,  toward 
evening  of  the  fourth  day  they  reached  the  shores  of  Lake 
Sparbo. 

The  vast  stretch  of  water  reflecting  the  last  gleams  of 
daylight  and  the  first  stars  of  coming  night  set  in  a  frame 
of  tall  cliffs,  black  firs,  and  lofty  oaks,  presented  a  gloomy 
but  magnificent  picture.  The  sight  of  a  lake  at  evening 
sometimes  produces,  at  a  certain  distance,  a  peculiar  opti- 
cal illusion  ;  it  seems  as  if  a  vast  abyss,  cleaving  the  earth 
from  side  to  side,  revealed  the  heavens  beneath  our  feet. 

Ordener  paused  to  contemplate  the  old  Druidical  forests, 
which  cover  the  steep  shores  of  the  lake  as  with  a  gar- 
ment, and  the  chalky  huts  of  Sparbo,  scattered  over  the 
slope  like  a  stray  flock  of  white  goats.  He  listened  to  the 
distant  clink  of  the  forges,^  mingled  with  the  dull  roar 
of  the  weird  forests,  the  intermittent  cry  of  wild  birds, 

^  The  waters  of  Lake  Sparbo  are  ^eatly  used  for  tempering  steeL 


HANS  OF  ICELAND.  211 

and  the  solemn  music  of  the  waves.  To  the  north  a  huge 
granite  bowlder,  still  gilded  by  the  rays  of  the  sun,  rose 
majestically  above  the  little  village  of  Oelmoe,  its  summit 
bending  beneath  a  mass  of  ruined  towers,  as  if  the  giant 
were  weary  of  his  load. 

When  the  soul  is  sad,  it  delights  in  melancholy  scenes ; 
it  adds  to  them  its  own  gloom.  Let  an  unhappy  man 
be  thrown  among  wild,  high  mountains  beside  some  black 
lake  in  the  heart  of  a  dark  forest,  at  the  close  of  day,  and 
he  will  see  this  solemn  scene  through  a  funereal  veil ;  he 
will  not  feel  that  the  sun  is  setting,  but  that  it  is  dying. 

Ordener  lingered,  motionless  and  mute,  until  his  com- 
panion exclaimed  ;  "  Capital,  sir  1  You  do  well  to  ponder 
thus  beside  the  most  miasma-laden  lake  in  Norway." 

This  remark  and  the  gesture  which  accompanied  it, 
would  have  brought  a  smile  to  the  lips  of  any  but  a 
lover  parted  from  his  mistress  perhaps  never  again  to 
meet  her.     The  learned  keeper  added  :  — 

"  And  yet  I  must  rouse  you  from  your  meditations  to 
remind  you  that  day  is  drawing  to  a  close,  and  we  must 
make  haste  if  we  would  reach  Oelmoe  village  before  twi- 
light overtakes  us."  • 

The  observation  was  correct.  Ordener  resumed  his  jour- 
ney, and  Spiagudry  followed  him,  continuing  his  unheeded 
reflections  upon  the  botanic  and  physiologic  phenomena 
which  Lake  Sparbo  affords  the  naturalist. 

"  Mr.  Ordener,"  said  he,  "  if  you  will  listen  to  your  de- 
voted guide,  you  will  give  up  your  fatal  enterprise ;  yes, 
sir,  and  you  will  take  up  your  abode  upon  the  shores  of 
this  most  curious  lake,  where  we  can  devote  ourselves  to 


212  HANS  OF  ICELAND. 

all  sorts  of  learned  research ;  for  instance^  to  the  study  of 
the  Stella  canora  palustris,  —  a  singular  plant,  which  many 
scholars  consider  to  be  fabulous,  but  which  Bishop  Arn- 
grimmsson  asserts  that  he  both  saw  and  heard  on  the  shores 
of  Lake  Sparbo.  Added  to  this,  we  shall  have  the  satis- 
faction of  feeling  that  we  dwell  upon  soil  which  contains 
more  gypsum  than  any  other  in  Europe,  and  where  the 
hired  assassins  of  Throndhjem  are  least  likely  to  find 
their  way.  Does  n't  it  attract  you,  young  master  ?  Come, 
renounce  your  senseless  journey ;  for,  not  to  offend  you, 
your  scheme  is  dangerous,  without  being  profitable,  — 
periculum  sine  pecunia ;  that  is  to  say,  senseless,  and 
conceived  at  a  moment  when  you  might  better  have  been 
thinking  of  other  things." 

Ordener,  who  paid  no  attention  to  the  poor  man's  words, 
merely  kept  up  the  conversation  by  those  occasional  mean- 
ingless monosyllables  which  great  talkers  are  ready  to 
accept  in  lieu  of  answers.  Thus  they  reached  Oelmoe 
village,  where  they  found  an  unusual  bustle  and  stir. 

The  inhabitants  —  hunters,  fishers,  and  blacksmiths  — 
had  left  their  houses,  and  hastily  collected  about  a  central 
mound  occupied  by  a  group  of  men,  one  of  whom  blew 
a  horn  and  waved  a  small  black-and-white  banner  over 
his  head. 

"  Probably  some  quack  doctor,"  said  Spiagudry,  —  "  am- 
buhaiarum  collegia,  pharmacopolce ;  some  scamp  who 
turns  gold  into  lead  and  wounds  into  sores.  Let  us  see. 
What  invention  of  the  Evil  One  will  he  sell  these  poor 
rustics  ?  It  would  be  bad  enough  if  these  impostors 
confined  themselves  to  kings,  if  they  all  imitated  Borch 


HANS  OF  ICELAND.  21i 

the  Dane  and  Borri  of  Milan,  those  alchemists  who  so  com- 
pletely duped  our  Frederic  IIL ;  ^  but  they  are  just  as 
greedy  for  the  peasant's  mite  as  for  the  prince's  million." 

Spiagudry  was  mistaken.  As  they  approached  the 
mound  they  recognized  by  his  black  gown  and  round, 
pointed  cap,  the  mayor,  surrounded  by  a  number  of  bow- 
men.    The  man  blowing  the  horn  was  the  town  crier. 

The  fugitive  keeper,  somewhat  disturbed,  muttered : 
"  Truly,  Mr.  Ordener,  I  did  not  expect  to  stumble  upon 
the  mayor  when  I  came  into  this  hamlet.  Great  Saint 
Hospitius,  protect  us  !     What  does  he  say  ? " 

His  uncertainty  was  of  brief  duration,  for  the  crier's 
shrill  voice  was  quickly  raised,  and  religiously  heeded  by 
the  little  group  of  villagers. 

"  In  the  name  of  his  Majesty  and  by  order  of  his  Exce')!' 
leucy,  General  Levin  de  Kuud,  governor,  the  lord  mayor 
of  Throndhjem  notifies  the  inhabitants  of  all  cities,  towns, 
and  villages  in  the  province,  that  a  reward  of  one  thousand 
crowns  is  offered  for  the  head  of  Hans,  a  native  of  Klip- 
stadur,  in  Iceland,  a  murderer  and  incendiary." 

A  vague  murmur  ran  through  the  crowd.  The  crier 
continued :  — 

"A  reward  of  four  crowns  is  offered  for  the  head 
of  Benignus   Spiagudry,   ex-keeper   of  the   Spladgest  at 

1  Frederic  III.  was  the  victim  of  Borch,  or  Borrich,  a  Danish  chem- 
ist, and  more  especially  of  Borri,  a  Milanese  quack,  who  declared  him- 
self to  be  the  favorite  of  the  Archangel  Michael.  This  impostor,  after 
startling  Strasburg  and  Amsterdam  with  his  pretended  miracles,  increased 
the  sphere  of  his  ambition  and  the  boldness  of  his  lies  ;  having  deceived 
the  people,  he  ventured  to  deceive  kings.  He  began  with  Queen  Christina 
at  Hamburg,  and  ended  with  King  Frederic  at  Copenhagen. 


214  HANS  OF  ICELAND. 

Throndhjera,  accused  of  necromancy  and  sacrilege.  This 
proclamation  shall  be  published  throughout  the  province 
by  the  mayors  of  all  cities,  towns,  and  villages,  who  will 
see  that  it  is  carried  out." 

The  mayor  took  the  proclamation  from  the  crier's  hands, 
and  added  in  a  lugubrious  and  solemn  voice  :  — 

"The  life  of  these  men  is  offered  to  whosoever  will 
take  it." 

The  reader  will  readily  believe  that  this  reading  was  not 
heard  unmoved  by  our  poor,  unfortunate  Spiagudry.  No 
doubt,  the  unusual  signs  of  terror  which  he  showed  would 
have  roused  the  attention  of  the  bystanders,  had  it  not 
just  then  been  wholly  absorbed  by  the  first  clause  of  the 
proclamation. 

"  A  reward  for  the  head  of  Hans  ! "  cried  an  old  fisher- 
man, who  had  hastened  to  the  spot,  trailing  his  wet  nets 
behind  him.  "  They  might  as  well,  by  Saint  Usuph,  set  a 
price  upon  the  head  of  Beelzebub ! " 

"  To  keep  up  a  proper  balance  between  Hans  and  Beel- 
zebub," said  a  hunter,  recognizable  by  his  chamois-skin 
jerkin,  "  they  should  only  offer  fifteen  hundred  crowns  for 
the  head  and  horns  of  the  latter  fiend." 

"  Glory  be  to  the  holy  mother  of  God ! "  cried  an  old 
woman,  her  bald  head  shaking  as  she  twirled  her  distaff. 
"  I  only  wish  I  might  see  the  head  of  that  Hans,  so  that 
I  might  make  sure  if  his  eyes  are  really  live  coals,  as 
they  say." 

"  Yes,  to  be  sure,"  replied  another  old  woman ;  "  it  was 
just  by  looking  at  it  that  he  set  Throndhjem  cathedral 
on  fire.     Now  I  should  like  to   see   the  monster  whole. 


HANS  OF  ICELAND.  215 

with  his  serpent's  tail,  cloven  foot,  and  broad  wings  like 
a  bat." 

"  Who  told  you  such  nonsense,  good  mother  ?  "  broke  in 
the  hunter,  with  a  self-satisfied  air.  "  I  've  seen  this  Hans 
of  Iceland  with  my  own  eyes  in  the  gorges  of  Medsyhath  , 
he  is  a  man  like  ourselves,  only  he  is  as  tall  as  a  forty- 
year-old  poplar." 

"  Indeed !  "  said  a  voice  from  the  crowd,  with  singuiar 
emphasis. 

This  voice,  which  made  Spiagudry  shudder,  proceeded 
from  a  short  man  whose  face  was  hidden  by  the  broad  felt 
hat  of  a  miner,  his  body  wrapped  in  rush  matting  and 
sealskin. 

"  Faith ! "  cried,  with  a  coarse  laugh,  a  smith  who  wore 
his  heavy  hammer  slung  across  his  shoulder,  "  they  may 
offer  one  thousand  or  ten  thousand  crowns  for  his  head, 
and  he  may  be  four  or  forty  feet  tall,  but  I  '11  not  ofier  to 
go  in  search  of  him." 

"  Nor  I,"  said  the  fisherman. 

"  Nor  I ;  nor  I,"  repeated  every  voice. 

"  And  yet  any  one  who  may  feel  tempted,"  rejoined  the 
little  man,  "  will  find  Hans  of  Iceland  to-morrow  at  the 
ruins  of  Arbar,  near  Lake  Miosen ;  the  day  after  that  at 
Walderhog  cave." 

"  Are  you  sure,  ray  good  man  ?  ** 

This  question  was  asked  at  one  and  the  same  time  by 
Ordener,  who  listened  to  this  scene  with  an  interest  easily 
understood  by  any  one  but  Spiagudry,  and  by  another 
short  and  tolerably  stout  man,  dressed  in  black,  with  a 
merry  countenance,  who  had  issued  from  the   only  inn 


216  HANS  OF  ICELAND. 

•which  the  village  contained,  at  the  first  sound  of  the  crier's 
horn. 

The  little  man  with  the  broad-brimmed  hat  seemed  to 
be  studying  them  both  for  a  moment,  and  then  answered 
in  hollow  tones  :  "  Yes." 

"  And  how  can  you  be  so  certain  ? "  asked  Ordener. 

"  I  know  where  Hans  of  Iceland  is,  just  as  well  as  I 
know  where  Beniguus  Spiagudry  is;  neither  of  them  is 
far  off  at  this  instant." 

All  the  poor  keeper's  terrors  were  revived,  and  he 
scarcely  dared  look  at  the  mysterious  little  man.  Fancy- 
ing that  his  French  periwig  had  failed  to  disguise  him, 
he  began  to  pluck  at  Ordener's  cloak  and  to  whisper: 
"  Master,  sir,  in  Heaven's  name,  have  mercy !  have  pity 
let  us  be  off!  let  us  leave  this  accursed  suburb  of 
heU!" 

Ordener,  although  equally  surprised,  carefully  examined 
the  little  man,  who,  turning  his  back  to  the  light,  seemed 
anxious  to  conceal  his  face. 

"  I  've  seen  that  Benignus  Spiagudry,"  cried  the  fisher- 
man, "at  Throndhjem  Spladgest.  He's  a  tall  fellow. 
They  offer  four  crowns  for  him." 

The  hunter  burst  out  laughing. 

"  Four  crowns  I  I  sha'  n't  go  a-hunting  for  him.  I  can 
get  more  for  the  skin  of  a  blue  fox." 

This  comparison,  which  at  any  other  time  would  have 
greatly  offended  the  learned  keeper,  now  comforted  him. 
Still,  he  was  about  to  address  another  prayer  to  Ordener 
to  persuade  him  to  continue  his  journey,  when  the  latter, 
having  learned  all  that  he  wished  to  know  forestalled  him 


HANS  OF  ICELAND.  217 

by  making  his  way  out  of  the  crowd,  which  was  beginning 
to  disperse. 

Although  when  they  entered  Oelmoe  village  they  had 
intended  passing  the  night  there,  they  quitted  it,  as  if  by 
common  consent,  without  even  alluding  to  the  motive 
for  their  abrupt  departure.  Ordener  was  moved  by  the 
hope  of  a  more  speedy  meeting  with  the  brigand,  Spia- 
gudry  by  a  desire  to  get  away  from  the  archers  as  speedily 
as  might  be. 

Ordener  was  in  too  serious  a  mood  to  laugh  at  his  com- 
rade's misadventures.  He  broke  the  silence  in  kindly 
tones. 

"  Old  man,  what  is  the  name  of  the  ruin  where  Hans 
is  to  be  found  to-morrow,  according  to  that  little  man  who 
seemed  to  know  everything  ? " 

"  I  don't  know ;  I  did  n't  quite  catch  the  name,  noble 
master,"  replied  Spiagudry,  who  uttered  no  falsehood  in  so 
saying. 

"  Then,"  continued  the  young  man,  "  I  must  make  up 
my  mind  not  to  meet  him  until  the  day  after  to-morrow  at 
Walderhog  cave." 

"Walderhog  cave,  sir  I  Indeed,  that  is  Hans  of  Ice- 
land's favorite  haunt." 

"  Let  us  take  that  road,"  said  Ordener. 

"  We  must  turn  to  the  left,  behind  Oelmoe  cliff.  It  wiU 
take  us  at  least  two  days  to  get  to  Walderhog  cave.** 

**  Do  you  know,  old  man,"  cautiously  observed  Ordener, 
"who  that  odd  fellow  was,  who  seemed  to  be  so  well 
acquainted  with  you  ?  " 

This  question  again  awakened  Spiagudry*s  fears,  which 


218  HANS  OF  ICELAND. 

had  been  lulled  to  sleep  as  the  village  of  Oelmoe  faded  in 
the  distance. 

"No,  truly,  sir,"  he  answered,  in  trembling  accents. 
*'  But  he  had  a  very  strange  voice." 

Ordener  tried  to  encourage  him. 

"  Fear  nothing,  old  man  ;  serve  me  well,  and  I  will  pro- 
tect you.  If  I  return  victorious  over  Hans,  I  promise  you 
not  only  a  pardon,  but  I  will  also  give  you  the  thousand 
crowns  reward  offered  by  the  officers  of  the  law." 

Honest  Benignus  dearly  loved  his  life,  but  he  also  loved 
gold.  Ordener's  promises  sounded  like  magic  in  hia 
ears ;  they  not  only  banished  all  his  terrors,  but  they 
excited  in  him  a  kind  of  garrulous  mirth,  which  found 
vent  in  lengthy  discourses,  queer  gestures,  and  learned 
quotations. 

"  Mr.  Ordener,"  said  he,  "  if  I  should  ever  have  occasion 
to  discuss  the  subject  with  Over-Bilseuth,  otherwise  called 
'  the  Babbler,'  nothing  shall  prevent  me  from  maintaining 
that  you  are  a  wise  and  honorable  young  man.  What 
more  worthy  and  more  glorious,  in  fact,  quid  cithara,  tuba, 
vel  campana  dignius,  than  nobly  to  risk  your  life  to  free 
your  country  from  a  monster,  a  brigand,  a  demon,  in  whom 
all  demons,  brigands,  and  monsters  seem  to  be  combined  ? 
Nobody  need  tell  me  that  you  are  moved  by  mercenary 
motives.  Noble  Lord  Ordener  yields  the  price  of  his  con- 
flict to  the  companion  of  his  journey,  to  the  old  man  who 
only  guided  him  within  a  mile  of  Walderhog  cave ;  for  I 
am  sure,  young  master,  that  you  will  allow  me  to  await 
the  result  of  your  illustrious  enterprise  at  the  village  of 
Surb,  situated  in  the  forest  within  a  mile  of  Walderhog 


HANS  OF  ICELAND.  219 

will  you  not  ?  And  when  your  glorious  victory  is  made 
known,  sir,  all  Norway  will  thrill  with  joy  like  that  of 
Vermund  the  Kefugee,  when  frora  the  summit  of  this  same 
Oelmoe  cliff,  which  we  just  now  passed,  he  saw  the  great 
fire  kindled  by  his  brother  Halfdan  on  Munkholm  tower 
in  token  of  his  deliverance." 

At  these  words  Ordener  inteiTupted  him  eagerly. 

"  What !  is  Munkholm  tower  visible  from  the  top  of 
this  rock  ? " 

"  Yes,  sir ;  twelve  miles  to  the  south,  between  the 
mountains  which  our  fathers  called  Frigga's  Footstools. 
At  this  hour  you  should  be  able  to  see  the  light  in  the 
tower  distinctly." 

"  Indeed ! "  exclaimed  Ordener,  fired  by  the  idea  of 
another  glimpse  of  the  seat  of  all  his  happiness,  "Old 
man,  of  course  there  is  a  path  leading  to  the  top  of  the 
rock,  is  there  not  ?  " 

"  Yes,  to  be  sure ;  a  path  which  begins  in  the  wood  that 
lies  just  before  us,  and  rises  by  a  gentle  slope  to  the 
bare  crown  of  the  cliff,  whence  it  is  continued  by  steps 
cut  in  the  rock  by  Vermund's  companions,  as  far  as  the 
castle,  where  it  ends.  Those  are  the  ruins  which  you  see 
in  the  moonlight." 

"  Well,  old  man,  you  shall  show  me  the  path ;  we  will 
spend  the  night  in  those  ruins,  —  in  those  ruins  from 
which  Munkholm  tower  is  visible." 

"  Can  you  really  mean  it,  sir  ? "  asked  Benignus.  "  The 
fatigues  of  the  day  —  " 

"  Old  man,  I  will  support  your  steps ;  my  footing  was 
never  more  secure." 


220  HANS  OF  ICELAND. 

"  Sir,  the  brambles  that  block  the  path,  which  has  long 
been  deserted,  the  fallen  stones,  the  darkness  —  " 

"  I  will  take  the  lead." 

"  There  may  be  some  savage  beast,  some  unclean  animal, 
some  hideous  monster  —  " 

"  I  did  not  undertake  this  journey  to  avoid  monsters." 

The  idea  of  halting  so  near  Oelmoe  was  very  unpleasant 
to  Spiagudry ;  the  thought  of  seeing  Munkliolm  light, 
and  possibly  the  light  in  Ethel's  window,  enraptured 
and  transported  Ordener. 

"  Young  master,"  urged  Spiagudry,  "  give  up  this  scheme ; 
take  my  advice.  I  have  a  presentiment  that  it  will  bring 
us  bad  luck." 

This  plea  was  as  nothing  in  the  face  of  Ordener's 
longing. 

"  Come,"  said  he,  impatiently,  "  you  must  remember  that 
you  agreed  to  serve  me  faithfully.  I  insist  upon  your 
showing  me  the  path ;   where  is  it  ? " 

"We  shall  come  across  it  directly,"  said  the  keeper, 
forced  to  obey. 

In  fact,  they  soon  saw  the  path.  They  entered  it ;  but 
Spiagudry  observed,  with  surprise  mixed  with  fright,  that 
the  tall  grass  was  broken  and  trampled,  and  that  Vermund 
the  Eefugee's  old  footpath  seemed  to  have  been  recently 
trodden. 


XX. 

Leonardo.  The  king  requires  your  presence. 
Ecfirique.  How  so  ? 

Lope  da  Vega  :  La  Fuerza  Lasttnosa. 

GENERAL  LEVIN"  DE  KNUD  sat  at  his  desk, 
which  was  covered  with  papers  and  open  letters, 
apparently  lost  in  thought,  A  secretary  stood  before  him 
awaiting  his  orders.  The  general  now  struck  the  rich 
carpet  beneath  his  feet  with  his  spurs,  and  now  absently 
toyed  with  the  decoration  of  the  Elephant,  hanging  about 
his  neck  from  the  collar  of  the  order.  Occasionally  he 
opened  his  lips  as  if  to  speak,  then  stopped,  rubbed 
his  head,  and  cast  another  glance  at  the  unsealed  de- 
spatches littering  the  table. 

"  How  the  devil ! "  he  cried  at  last. 

This  conclusive  exclamation  was  followed  by  a  brief 
silence. 

"Who  would  ever  have  imagined,"  he  resumed,  "that 
those  devilish  miners  would  have  gone  so  far  ?  Of  course 
they  were  secretly  egged  on  to  this  revolt ;  but  do  you 
know,  Wapherney,  the  thing  looks  serious  ?  Do  you  know 
that  five  or  six  hundred  scoundrels  from  the  Faroe  Islands, 
headed  by  a  certain  old  thief  named  Jonas,  have  already 
quitted  the  mines ;  that  a  young  fanatic  called  Norbith 
has  also  taken  command  «f  thp  Guldbrandsdal  malcon- 


222  HANS  OF  ICELAOT). 

tents ;  that  all  the  hot-heads  in  Sund-Moer,  Hubfallo,  and 
Kongsberg,  who  were  only  waiting  the  signal,  may  have 
risen  already  ?  Do  you  know  that  the  mountaineers  have 
joined  the  movement,  and  that  they  are  headed  by  one  of 
the  boldest  foxes  of  Kiblen,  old  Kenny bol  ?  And  finally, 
do  you  know  that  according  to  popular  report  in  northern 
Throndhjem,  if  we  are  to  believe  the  lord  mayor,  who 
hae  written  me,  that  notorious  criminal,  upon  whose  head 
we  have  set  a  price,  the  much-dreaded  Hans,  has  taken 
chief  command  of  the  insurrection  ?  What  do  you  say  to 
all  this,  my  dear  Wapherney  ?     Ahem  !  " 

"  Your  Excellency,"  said  Wapherney,  "  knows  what 
measures  —  " 

"There  is  still  another  circumstance  connected  with 
this  lamentable  affair  which  I  cannot  explain;  that  is, 
how  our  prisoner  Schumacker  can  be  the  author  of  the 
revolt,  as  they  claim.  This  seems  to  surprise  no  one,  but 
it  surprises  me  more  than  anything  else.  It  is  hard  to 
believe  that  a  man  whose  company  my  faithful  Ordener 
loves  can  be  a  traitor;  and  yet  it  is  asserted  that  the 
miners  have  risen  in  his  name,  —  his  name  is  their  watch- 
word. They  even  give  him  the  titles  of  which  the  king 
deprived  him.  All  this  seems  certain ;  but  how  does  it 
happen  that  Countess  d'Ahlefeld  knew  all  these  details 
a  week  ago,  at  a  time  when  the  first  real  symptoms  of 
trouble  had  scarcely  begun  to  appear  in  the  mines  ?  It  is 
strange  !  No  matter,  I  must  provide  for  every  emergency. 
Give  me  my  seal,  Wapherney." 

The  general  wrote  three  letters,  sealed  them,  and  handed 
them  to  his  secretary. 


HANS  OF  ICELAND.  228 

"  See  that  this  message  is  sent  to  Baron  Voethaiin, 
colonel  of  musketeers,  now  garrisoned  at  Munkholm,  so 
that  his  regiment  may  march  at  once  to  the  seat  of  the 
revolt ;  this  to  the  officer  in  command  at  Munkholm,  an 
order  to  guard  the  ex-chancellor  more  closely  than  ever. 
1  must  see  and  question  this  Schumacker  myself  Then 
despatch  this  letter  to  Skongen,  to  Major  Wolhm,  who 
is  in  command  there,  directing  him  to  send  forward  a 
portion  of  the  garrison  to  the  centre  of  rebellion.  Go, 
Wapherney,  and  see  that  these  orders  are  executed  at 
once." 

The  secretary  went  out,  leaving  the  governor  plunged  in 
meditation. 

"  All  this  is  very  alarming,"  thought  he.  "  These  miners 
rebelling  in  one  place,  this  chancellor  intriguing  in  another, 
that  crazy  Ordener  —  nobody  knows  where  !  He  may  be 
travelling  in  the  very  midst  of  all  these  rioters,  leaving 
Schumacker  here  under  my  protection  to  conspire  against 
the  State,  and  his  daughter,  for  whose  safety  I  have  been 
kind  enough  to  remove  the  company  of  soldiers  to  which 
that  Frederic  d'Ahlefeld  belongs,  whom  Ordener  accuses 
of—  "Why,  it  seems  to  me  that  this  very  company  might 
easily  stop  the  advance  columns  of  the  insurgents ;  it  is 
very  well  situated  for  that.  Wahlstrom,  where  it  is  sta- 
tioned, is  near  Lake  Miosen  and  Arbar  ruin.  That  is  one 
of  the  places  of  which  the  rebels  will  be  sure  to  take 
possession," 

At  this  point  in  his  revery,  the  general  was  interrupted 
by  the  sound  of  the  opening  door. 

"  Well,  what  do  you  want,  Gustavus  ?  * 


224  HANS  OF  ICELAND. 

"  General,  a  messenger  asks  to  speak  for  a  moment 
with  your  Excellency." 

"  Well,  what  is  it  now  ?  What  fresh  disaster  !i  Let 
the  messenger  come  in." 

The  messenger  entered,  and  handed  a  packet  to  the 
governor,  saying,  "From  his  highness  the  viceroy,  your 
Excellency." 

The  general  hurriedly  tore  open  the  despatch. 

"  By  Saint  George ! "  he  cried,  with  a  start  of  surprise, "  I 
believe  that  they  have  all  gone  mad !  If  here  is  not  the 
viceroy  requesting  me  to  proceed  to  Bergen.  He  says  it 
is  on  urgent  business,  by  order  of  the  king.  A  fine  time 
this  to  transact  urgent  business  !  *  The  lord  chancellor, 
now  travelling  in  the  province  of  Throndhjem,  will  take 
your  place  during  your  absence.'  Here  's  a  substitute  in 
whom  I  have  no  confidence  !  '  The  bishop  will  assist 
him  —  *  Eeally,  these  are  excellent  governors  that  Fred- 
eric chooses  for  a  country  in  a  state  of  revolt, — two  gentle- 
men of  the  cloth,  a  chancellor,  and  a  bishop !  Well,  no 
matter,  the  invitation  is  express;  it  is  the  order  of  the 
king.  Needs  must  obey ;  but  before  I  go  I  must  see  Schu- 
macker  and  question  him,  I  am  sure  that  there  is  a  plot 
to  involve  me  in  a  network  of  intrigue ;  but  I  have  one 
unerring  compass,  —  my  conscience." 


XXI. 

The  voice  of  thy  slain  brother's  blood  cries  aat. 
Even  from  the  ground,  unto  the  Lord  1 

Cain :  A  Mystery. 

**  "X/ES,  Count;  it  was  this  very  day,  in  Arbar  ruin, 
A  that  we  were  told  he  might  be  found.  Count- 
less circumstances  lead  me  to  believe  in  the  truth  of  this 
valuable  information  which  I  accidentally  picked  up  yes- 
terday, as  I  told  you,  at  OelmoB  village." 

"  Are  we  far  from  this  Arbar  ruin  ? " 

"It  is  close  by  Lake  Miosen.  The  guide  assures  me 
that  we  shall  be  there  before  noon." 

These  words  were  spoken  by  two  horsemen  muffled  in 
brown  cloaks,  who  early  one  morning  were  pursuing  one 
of  the  many  narrow,  winding  paths  which  run  in  every 
direction  through  the  forest  lying  between  Lakes  Miosen 
and  Sparbo.  A  mountain  guide,  provided  with  a  hunting- 
voi*  IX.— 16 


226  HANS  OF  ICELAND. 

horn  and  an  axe,  led  the  way  upon  his  little  gray  pony, 
and  behind  the  travellers  rode  four  men  armed  to  the 
teeth,  toward  whom  these  two  persons  occasionally  turned, 
as  if  afraid  of  being  overheard. 

"  If  that  Iceland  thief  is  really  lurking  in  Arbar  ruin," 
said  one  rider,  whose  steed  kept  a  respectful  distance 
behind  the  other,  "  it  is  a  great  point  gained ;  for  the 
difficulty  hitherto  has  been  to  find  this  mysterious  being." 

"  Do  you  think  so,  Musdoemon  ?  And  suppose  he  de- 
clines our  offers  ? " 

"  Impossible,  your  Grace  i  VVhat  brigand  could  resist 
gold  and  a  free  pardon  ? " 

"  But  you  know  that  this  is  no  common  scoundrel 
Do  not  judge  him  by  yourself.  If  he  should  refuse,  how 
can  you  keep  your  promise  of  night  before  last  to  the 
three  leaders  of  the  insurrection  ? " 

"  Well,  noble  Count,  in  that  case,  which  I  regard  as 
impossible  if  we  are  lucky  enough  to  find  our  man,  has 
your  Grace  forgotten  that  a  false  Hans  of  Iceland  awaits 
me  two  days  hence  at  the  hour  and  place  appointed  fox 
meeting  the  three  chiefs,  at  Blue  Star,  a  place,  moreover, 
conveniently  near  Arbar  ruin  ?  " 

"  You  are  right,  my  dear  Musdoemon,  as  usual,"  said 
the  count ;  and  each  resumed  his  own  particular  line  of 
thought. 

Musdoemon,  whose  interest  it  was  to  keep  his  master 
in  good  humor,  for  the  purpose  of  diverting  him,  asked  the 
guide  a  question. 

"  My  good  man  wha*"  is  that  ruined  stone  cross  yonder, 
behind  those  young  oaks  ? " 


HANS  OF  ICELAND.  22T 

The  guide,  a  man  with  fixed  stare  and  stupid  mien, 
turned  his  head  and  shook  it  several  times,  as  he  said : 
"  Oh,  master,  that  is  the  oldest  gallows  in  Norway ; 
holy  king  Olaf  had  it  built  for  a  judge  who  made  a  com- 
pact with  a  robber." 

Musdcemon  saw  by  his  patron's  face  that  the  guide's 
artless  words  had  produced  an  effect  quite  contrary  to 
that  which  he  hoped. 

"  It  is  a  curious  story,"  the  guide  added ;  "  good 
Mother  Osia  told  it  to  me.  The  robber  was  ordered  to 
hang  the  judge." 

The  poor  guide,  in  his  simplicity,  did  not  suppose  that 
the  incident  with  which  he  meant  to  entertain  his  em- 
ployers was  almost  an  insult  to  them.  Musdoemon  stopped 
him. 

"  That  will  do,"  said  he ;  "  we  have  heard  the  story 
before." 

"  Insolent  fellow ! "  muttered  the  count,  "  he  has  heard 
the  story  before.  Ah,  Musdoemon,  you  shall  pay  for  your 
impudence  yet." 

"  Did  your  Grace  speak  to  me  ? "  obsequiously  asked 
Musdoemon. 

"  I  was  thinking  how  I  could  obtain  the  Order  of  the 
Dannebrog  for  you.  The  marriage  of  my  daughter  Ulrica 
and  Baron  Ordener  would  be  an  excellent  opportunity." 

Musdoemon  was  profuse  in  protestations  and  thanks. 

"  By  the  way,"  added  his  Grace,  "  let  us  talk  business. 
Do  you  suppose  that  the  temporary  recall  which  we  sent 
him  has  reached  the  Mecklenburger  ? " 

The  reader  may  remember  tiat  the  count  was  in  the 


228  HANS  OF  ICELAND. 

habit  of  thus  designating  General  Levin  de  Knud,  who 
was  indeed  a  native  of  Mecklenburg. 

"  Let  us  talk  business ! "  thought  the  injured  Mus- 
doemon;  "it  seems  that  my  affairs  are  not  'business.' 
Count,"  he  replied  aloud,  "  I  think  that  the  viceroy's  mes- 
senger must  be  in  Throndhjem  by  this  time,  and  there- 
fore General  Levin  must  be  getting  ready  to  start." 

The  count  assumed  a  kindly  tone. 

"  That  recall,  my  dear  fellow,  was  one  of  your  master- 
strokes, —  one  of  your  best  planned  and  most  skilfully 
executed  intrigues." 

"  The  credit  belongs  as  much  to  your  Grace  as  to  me," 
replied  Musdoemon,  careful,  as  we  have  already  remarked, 
to  mix  the  count  in  all  his  machinations. 

The  master  understood  this  secret  desire  of  his  con- 
fidant, but  chose  to  seem  unconscious  of  it. 

He  smiled. 

"  My  dear  private  secretary,  you  are  always  modest ; 
but  nothing  can  make  me  depreciate  your  most  eminent 
services.  Elphega's  presence  and  the  Mecklenburger's 
absence  assure  my  triumph  in  Throndhjem.  I  am  now  at 
the  head  of  the  province ;  and  if  Hans  of  Iceland  accepts 
the  command  of  the  rebels,  which  I  intend  to  offer  him 
in  person,  to  me  will  fall,  in  the  eyes  of  the  king,  the 
glory  of  putting  down  this  distressing  insurrection  and 
capturing  this  terrible  brigand." 

They  were  chatting  thus  in  low  voices  when  the  guide 
rode  back  to  them. 

"Masters,"  said  he,  "here  on  our  left  is  the  hillock 
upon   which   Biorn    the  Just  had  the  double-tongued 


HANS  OF  ICELAND.  229 

Vellon  beheaded  iu  the  presence  of  his  entire  army,  the 
traitor  having  driven  off  the  king's  allies  and  summoned 
the  enemy  to  the  camp,  that  he  might  have  the  appear- 
ance of  saving  Biorn's  life." 

All  these  reminiscences  of  old  Norway  did  not  seem  to 
be  to  Musdoemon's  taste,  for  he  hurriedly  interrupted  the 
guide. 

"  Come,  come,  good  man,  be  silent  and  go  your  way, 
without  turning  back  so  often.  What  do  we  care  about 
the  foolish  stories  of  which  these  ruins  and  dead  trees 
remind  you  ?  You  annoy  my  master  with  your  old 
wives'  tales." 


XXII. 


JTow  the  hungry  lion  roars, 

And  the  wolf  behowls  the  moon  ; 
"While  the  heavy  ploughman  snores, 

All  with  weary  task  foredone. 
Now  the  wasted  brands  do  glow, 

"Whilst  the  screech-owl,  screeching  loud. 
Puts  the  wretch  that  lies  in  woe 

In  remembrance  of  a  shroud. 
Now  it  is  the  time  of  night, 

That  the  graves,  all  gaping  wide, 
Every  one  lets  forth  his  sprite, 

In  the  church-way  paths  to  glide. 

Shakespeare:  Midsummer  NighCs  Dream* 


LET  US  now  retrace  our  steps.  We  left  Ordener  and 
Spiagudry  struggling  laboriously  up  the  brow  of 
OelmoB  cliff  by  the  light  of  the  rising  moon.  This  rock, 
bare  of  vegetation  at  the  point  where  it  begins  to  curve, 
is,  from  this  peculiarity,  called  by  the  Norwegian  peasants 


HANS  OF  ICELAND.  231 

the  Vulture's  Neck,  —  a  name  which  ^ves  an  excellent 
idea  ol  tiie  aspect  ot  this  nuge  granite  bowider  as  seen 
from  a  distance. 

As  our  travellers  approached  this  part  of  the  rock,  the 
forest  changed  to  Heather.  Grass  gave  place  to  moss ; 
wild  brier-roses,  broom,  and  holly  wei-e  substituted  for 
oaks  and  beeches,  —  a  scantier  growth,  which  in  moun- 
tainous regions  always  shows  that  the  summit  is  near, 
as  it  indicates  the  gradual  diminution  of  the  stratum  of 
earth  covering  what  may  be  termed  the  skeleton  of  the 
mountain. 

"Mr.  Ordener,"  said  Spiagudry,  whose  lively  mind 
seemed  ever  a  prey  to  a  varying  world  of  ideas,  "  this  is  a 
very  tiresome  climb,  and  it  takes  all  my  devotion  to  fol- 
low you.  But  it  seems  to  me  that  I  see  a  superb  convol- 
vulus yonder  to  the  right ;  how  I  should  like  to  examine 
it.  Why  is  it  not  broad  daylight  ?  Don't  you  think  it 
was  a  great  piece  of  impertinence  to  value  a  learned  man 
like  me  at  no  more  than  four  paltry  crowns  ?  'T  is  true, 
the  famous  Phaedrus  was  a  slave,  and  ^sop,  if  we  are  to 
believe  the  learned  Planudes,  was  sold  at  a  fair  like  a 
beast  of  burden  or  household  chattel.  And  who  would 
not  be  proud  to  bear  any  sort  of  resemblance  to  the  great 
^sop  ? " 

"  Or  to  the  celebrated  Hans  ? "  added  Ordener,  with  a 
smile. 

"  By  Saint  Hospitius,"  replied  the  keeper,  "  do  not  utter 
that  name  so  lightly ;  I  swear  I  could  readily  forego  the 
latter  comparison.  But  would  n't  it  be  strange  if  Benignus 
Spiagudry,  his  companion  in  misfortune,  should  win  the 


232  HANS  OF  ICELAND. 

reward  for  his  head  ?  Mr.  Ordener,  you  are  more  generous 
than  Jason,  for  he  did  not  give  the  golden  fleece  to  the 
Argonaut  pilot ;  and  I  am  sure  that  your  mission,  although 
I  do  not  clearly  understand  its  object,  is  no  less  perilous 
than  that  of  Jason." 

"  Well,"  said  Ordener,  "  since  you  know  Hans  of  Ice- 
land, tell  me  something  about  him.  You  say  that  he  is 
by  no  means  a  giant,  as  is  generally  supposed." 

Spiagudry  interrupted  him :  "  Stop,  master !  Don't  you 
hear  footsteps  behind  us  ? " 

"Yes,"  quietly  answered  the  young  man;  "don't  be 
alarmed ;  it  is  some  animal  frightened  at  our  coming,  and 
brushing  against  the  bushes  in  its  flight." 

"You  are  right,  my  young  Caesar;  it  is  so  long  since 
these  woods  have  seen  the  face  of  man !  If  we  may  judge 
by  its  heavy  tread,  it  must  be  a  good-sized  animal.  It 
may  be  an  elk  or  a  reindeer ;  this  part  of  Norway  abounds 
in  these  beasts.  Wildcats  are  also  found  here ;  I  saw  one 
myself,  which  was  brought  to  Copenhagen ;  he  was  mon- 
strous big.  I  must  give  you  a  description  of  this  ferocious 
animal" 

"  My  dear  guide,"  said  Ordener,  "  I  would  rather  that 
you  would  give  me  a  description  of  another  and  no  less 
ferocious  monster,  the  horrible  Hans." 

"  Speak  lower,  sir  !  How  calmly  you  utter  that  name  ! 
You  do  not  know —  Good  Heavens,  sir!  just  hear 
that ! " 

As  Spiagudry  said  this,  he  drew  closer  to  Ordener,  who 
did  indeed  distinctly  hear  a  cry  similar  to  the  growl  which, 
as  the  reader  may  remember,  had  so  alarmed  the  timid 


HANS  OF  ICELAND.  233 

keeper  on  the  stormy  night  of  their  departure  from 
Throndhjem. 

"Did  you  hear  that?"  he  whispered,  breathless  with 
fright. 

"  To  be  sure  I  did,"  said  Ordener ;  "  but  I  don't  see  why 
you  tremble  so  violently.  It  is  the  howl  of  some  wild 
beast,  possibly  the  cry  of  one  of  those  very  wildcats  of 
which  you  were  just  talking.  Did  you  expect  to  pass 
through  such  a  place  at  this  time  of  night  without  dis- 
turbing any  of  its  inhabitants  ?  I  '11  warrant  you,  old 
man,  they  are  far  more  frightened  than  you  are." 

Spiagudry,  seeing  his  young  companion's  composure, 
was  somewhat  reassured. 

"  Well,  it  may  be,  sir,  that  you  are  right.  But  that  yeU 
sounded  terribly  like  a  voice  that  I —  It  was  a  very 
poor  idea,  let  me  tell  you,  sir,  to  insist  upon  climbing  up 
to  this  Vermund's  castle.  I  fear  we  shall  meet  with  some 
accident  on  the  Vulture's  Neck." 

"Fear  nothing  while  you  are  with  me,"  answered 
Ordener. 

"  Oh,  nothing  disturbs  you ;  but,  sir,  nobody  but  the 
blessed  Saint  Paul  can  handle  vipers  without  getting 
bitten.  You  did  not  even  notice,  when  we  struck  into 
this  confounded  footpath,  that  it  seemed  to  have  been 
recently  trodden,  and  that  the  grass  had  not  had  time 
to  lift  its  head  since  it  was  trampled." 

"  I  confess  that  I  did  not  pay  much  heed  to  it,  and  that 
my  peace  of  mind  is  not  dependent  upon  the  state  of  a 
few  blades  of  grass.  See,  we  are  now  out  of  the  thicket ; 
we  shall  hear  no  more  from  the  wild  beasts ;  I  need  not 


234  HANS  OF  ICELAND. 

therefore  tell  you,  my  brave  guide,  to  summon  all  youT 
courage,  but  rather  bid  you  muster  all  your  strength,  for 
this  path,  cut  in  the  rock,  will  doubtless  be  even  steeper 
than  the  one  we  have  left." 

"  It  is  not  that  it  is  steeper,  sir,  but  the  learned  trav- 
eller, Suckson,  says  that  it  is  often  impeded  by  rocks  or 
heavy  stones  too  big  to  be  handled,  over  which  it  is  not 
easy  to  clamber.  Among  others,  there  is,  just  beyond  the 
Maliier  postern,  which  must  be  close  at  hand,  a  huge 
triangular  granite  bowlder,  which  I  have  always  had  the 
greatest  desire  to  see.  Schoenning  asserts  that  he  dis- 
covered the  three  primitive  Eunic  characters  on  it." 

The  travellers  had  for  some  time  been  climbing  the  face 
of  the  rock ;  they  now  reached  a  small,  ruined  tower, 
through  which  their  path  led,  and  to  which  Spiagudry 
drew  Ordener's  attention, 

"  This  is  the  Malaer  postern,  sir.  This  path  hewn  in 
the  living  rock  contains  several  curious  structures,  which 
show  the  ancient  style  of  fortification  used  in  our  Nor- 
wegian manor-houses.  This  postern,  which  was  always 
guarded  by  four  men-at-arms,  was  the  first  outwork  of 
Vermund's  fort.  Speaking  of  posterns,  the  monk  Urensius 
makes  an  odd  remark ;  he  asks  whether  the  word  janua, 
derived  from  Janus,  whose  temple  doors  were  so  widely 
celebrated,  has  any  connection  with  *  Janissary,*  a  name 
applied  to  the  troops  who  guard  the  sultan's  gate.  It 
would  be  strange  enough  if  the  name  of  the  mildest  prince 
known  to  history  should  have  passed  to  the  most  ferocious 
soldiers  upon  earth." 

In  the  midst  of  all  the  keeper's  scientific  twaddle,  they 


HANS  OF  ICELAND.  235 

journeyed  laboriously  along,  over  loose  stones  and  sharp 
pebbles,  mingled  with  the  short,  slippery  grass  which 
sometimes  grows  upon  rocks.  Ordener  beguiled  his  weari- 
ness by  thinking  how  delightful  it  would  be  to  gaze  once 
more  upon  distant  Muukholra;  all  at  once  Spiagudry 
exclaimed :  "  Oh,  I  see  it !  This  sight  alone  repays  me 
for  all  my  trouble.     I  see  it,  sir,  I  see  it ! " 

"See  what?"  said  Ordener,  who  was  just  then  thinking 
of  Ethel. 

"  Why,  sir,  the  three-sided  pyramid  described  by  Schoen- 
ning.  I  shall  be  the  third  scientific  man,  with  Professor 
Schoenning  and  Bishop  Isleif,  to  have  the  pleasure  of  study- 
ing it.     Only  it  is  a  great  pity  that  there  is  no  moon." 

As  they  approached  the  famous  bowlder,  Spiagudry 
uttered  an  exclamation  of  horror  and  distress.  Ordener, 
in  surprise,  asked  with  some  interest  the  cause  of  this  new 
emotion ;  but  the  archaeologist  was  for  a  time  unable  to 
reply. 

"  You  thought,"  said  Ordener,  "  that  this  rock  blocked 
the  path ;  on  the  contrary,  you  should  be  grateful  to  find 
that  it  leaves  it  entirely  open." 

"  And  that  is  the  very  thing  which  provokes  me/'  said 
Benignus,  in  piteous  accents. 

"  What  do  you  mean  ? " 

"  Why,  sir,"  replied  the  keeper, "  do  you  not  see  that  the 
position  of  the  pyramid  has  been  changed ;  that  the  base, 
which  rested  on  the  path,  is  now  uppermost;  and  that 
the  bowlder  stands  upside  down,  upon  the  very  side  on 
which  Schoenning  discovered  the  primordial  Eunic  letters  ? 
I  am  indeed  unfortunate  I- " 


236  HANS  OF  ICELAND. 

"  It  is  a  pity,"  said  the  young  man. 

"And  besides,"  tiastily  added  Spiagudry,  "the  over- 
turning of  this  mass  of  stone  proves  the  presence  of  some 
superhuman  being.  Unless  it  be  the  work  of  the  Devil, 
there  is  but  one  man  in  Norway  whose  arm  could  —  " 

"My  poor  guide,  there  you  are,  giving  way  again  to 
your  foolish  fears.  Who  knows  but  this  stone  has  lain 
thus  for  more  than  a  hundred  years  ? " 

"  It  is  a  hundred  and  fifty  years,  it  is  true,"  said  Spia- 
gudry, more  quietly,  "  since  the  last  scientific  man  observed 
it.  But  it  seems  to  me  to  have  been  moved  recently ;  the 
place  which  it  formerly  occupied  is  still  damp.  Look, 
sir." 

Ordener,  impatient  to  reach  the  ruins,  dragged  his  guide 
away  from  the  marvellous  pyramid,  and  succeeded,  by 
gentle  words,  in  removing  the  fresh  fears  with  which  this 
strange  displacement  inspired  the  aged  scholar. 

"  See  here,  old  man,  you  can  take  up  your  abode  on  the 
borders  of  this  lake,  and  devote  yourself  to  your  impor- 
tant studies,  when  you  get  the  thousand  crowns  reward 
for  Hans's  head." 

"  You  are  right,  noble  sir ;  but  do  not  speak  so  lightly 
of  so  dubious  a  victory.  I  must  give  you  one  piece  of 
advice  which  may  help  you  to  overcome  the  monster." 

Ordener  drew  eagerly  toward  Spiagudry.  "  Advice ! 
what  is  it  ? " 

"The  robber,"  said  the  latter,  in  a  low  voice,  casting 
uneasy  glances  around  him,  —  "  the  robber  wears  at  his  belt 
a  skull,  from  which  he  usually  drinks.  It  is  the  skuU  of 
his  son,  of  the  mutilation  of  whose  corpse  I  am  accused.** 


HANS  OF  ICELAND.  237 

'  Speak  a  little  louder,  and  don't  be  frightened ;  I  can 
hardly  hear  you.     Well,  this  skull  ? " 

"  This  skull,"  said  Spiagudry,  bending  to  whisper  in  the 
young  man's  ear,  "  you  must  try  to  obtain.  The  monster 
attaches  a  certain  superstitious  importance  to  its  pos- 
session. His  son's  skull  once  yours,  you  can  do  what 
you  will  with  him." 

"  That  is  all  very  well,  my  good  fellow ;  but  how  am  I 
to  get  this  skull  ? " 

"By  some  stratagem,  sir.  While  the  monster  sleeps, 
perhaps." 

Ordener  interrupted  him :  "  Enough.  Your  good  advice 
is  useless.  I  cannot  be  supposed  to  know  when  my 
enemy  is  asleep.  My  sword  is  the  only  weapon  which 
I  recognize." 

"  Sir,  sir !  it  has  never  been  proved  that  the  archangel 
Michael  did  not  resort  to  stratagem  to  vanquish  Satan." 

Here  Spiagudry  stopped  short,  and  stretching  out  his 
hands,  exclaimed  in  scarcely  audible  tones,  "  Oh,  heavens ! 
Oh,  heavens  !  What  do  I  see  ?  Look,  master ;  is  not  that 
a  short  man  walking  before  us  in  the  path  ? " 

"  Faith,"  said  Ordener,  raising  his  eyes,  "  I  see  nothing.' 

"Nothing,  sir?  To  be  sure,  the  path  bends,  and  he 
has  disappeared  behind  that  rock.  Go  no  farther,  sir,  I 
entreat  you." 

"  Surely,  if  the  person  whom  you  imagine  that  you  saw 
disappeared  so  quickly,  it  shows  that  he  has  no  idea  of 
waiting  for  us ;  and  if  he  chooses  to  run  away,  that  is  no 
reason  why  we  should  do  the  same." 

"  Watch  over  us,  holy  Hospitius  ! "  ejaculated  Spiagudry, 


238  HANS  OF  ICELAND. 

who  in  all  moments  of  danger  remembered  his  favorite 
saint. 

"  You  must,"  added  Ordener,  "  have  taken  the  flickering 
shadow  of  some  startled  owl  for  a  man." 

"And  yet  I  really  thought  I  saw  a  little  man;  to  be 
sure,  the  moonlight  often  produces  strange  delusions.  It 
was  in  the  moonlight  that  Baldan,  lord  of  Merneugh,  took 
a  white  bed-curtain  for  his  mother's  ghost;  which  led  him 
to  go  next  day  and  confess  himself  guilty  of  parricide 
before  the  judges  of  Christiania,  who  were  about  to  con- 
demn the  dead  woman's  innocent  page.  So  we  may  say 
that  the  moonlight  saved  that  page's  life." 

No  one  was  ever  more  ready  than  Spiagudry  to  forget 
the  present  in  the  past.  One  anecdote  from  the  vast  store- 
house of  his  memory  was  enough  to  banish  all  thought  of 
the  present.  Thus  the  story  of  Baldan  diverted  his  fears, 
and  he  added  in  a  tranquil  voice,  "  It  is  quite  possible 
that  the  moonlight  deceived  me  too." 

Meantime,  they  gained  the  top  of  the  Vulture's  Neck, 
and  began  to  get  another  glimpse  of  the  ruins,  which  the 
steep  slope  of  the  rock  had  hidden  from  them  as  they 
ascended. 

The  reader  need  not  be  surprised  if  we  frequently  en- 
counter ruins  on  the  topmost  peak  of  Norwegian  moun- 
tains. No  one  who  has  travelled  among  the  mountains 
of  Europe  can  have  failed  to  notice  the  remains  of  for- 
tresses and  castles  clinging  to  the  top  of  the  loftiest 
peaks,  like  the  deserted  nest  of  a  vulture  or  the  eyrie  of 
some  dead  eagle.  In  Norway  especially,  at  the  period  of 
which  we  write,  the  variety  of  these  aerial  structures  was 


HANS  OF  ICELAND.  239 

as  amazing  as  their  number.  Sometimes  they  consisted  of 
long  dismantled  walls,  enclosing  a  rock,  sometimes  of  slen- 
der pointed  turrets,  surmounting  a  sharp  peak,  like  a 
crown;  or  upon  the  snowy  summit  of  a  lofty  mountain 
might  be  seen  great  towers  grouped  about  a  massive  don- 
jon, looking  in  the  distance  like  an  antique  diadem.  Here 
were  the  graceful  pointed  arches  of  a  Gothic  cloister,  side 
by  side  with  the  heavy  Egyptian  columns  of  a  Saxon 
church;  there,  close  by  some  pagan  chieftain's  citadel  with 
its  square  towers,  stood  the  crenellated  fortress  of  a  Chris- 
tian lord ;  or,  again,  a  stronghold  crumbling  with  age, 
neighbored  by  a  monastery  ravaged  by  war.  Of  all  these 
edifices  —  a  strange  medley  of  architectural  styles,  now 
almost  forgotten,  daringly  constructed  in  apparently  inac- 
cessible spots  —  but  a  few  ruins  remained  to  bear  witness 
alike  to  the  power  and  the  impotence  of  man.  Within 
their  walls  deeds  were  perhaps  done  far  worthier  of  repeti- 
tion than  all  the  stories  which  are  written  now  ;  but  time 
passed ;  the  eyes  which  witnessed  them  are  closed ;  the 
tradition  of  them  died  with  the  lapse  of  years,  like  a  fire 
which  is  not  fed;  and  when  that  is  lost,  who  can  read 
the  secret  of  the  ages  ? 

The  manor-house  of  Vermund  the  Eefugee,  which  our 
two  travellers  had  now  reached,  was  one  of  those  places 
about  which  popular  superstition  has  woven  endless  amaz- 
ing histories  and  marvellous  legends.  By  its  walls  — 
composed  of  pebbles  bedded  in  cement,  now  harder  than 
stone  —  it  was  easy  to  determine  that  it  was  built  about 
the  fifth  or  sixth  century.  But  one  of  its  five  towers  re- 
mained standing ;  the  other  four,  more  or  less  dilapidated, 


240  HANS  OF  ICELAND. 

and  strewing  the  top  of  the  rock  with  broken  fragments, 
were  connected  by  a  line  of  ruins,  which  also  showed  the 
ancient  limits  of  the  inner  courts  of  the  castle.  It  was  very 
difficult  to  penetrate  this  enclosure,  littered  as  it  was  with 
stones  and  shattered  blocks  of  granite,  and  overgrown  with 
weeds  and  brambles  which,  clambering  from  ruin  to  ruin, 
crowned  the  broken  walls  with  verdure,  or  overhung  the 
precipice  with  long,  flexible  branches.  On  these  drooping 
tendrils,  it  was  said,  dim  ghosts  often  swung  in  the  moon- 
light,—  the  guilty  spirits  of  those  who  had  wilfully 
drowned  themselves  in  Lake  Sparbo ;  and  to  these  twigs, 
too,  the  water-sprite  fastened  the  cloud  which  was  to  bear 
him  home  again  at  sunrise.  Fearful  mysteries  were  these, 
more  than  once  witnessed  by  hardy  fishermen,  when,  to 
take  advantage  of  the  time  when  dogfish  sleep,^  they  ven- 
tured to  row  as  far  as  Oelmce  cliff,  which  loomed  up  in 
the  darkness  over  their  heads  like  the  broken  arch  of  some 
huge  bridge. 

Our  two  adventurers  climbed  the  manor  M'all,  though 
not  without  some  difficulty,  and  crept  through  a  crevice, 
for  the  door  was  filled  with  fragments.  The  only  tower 
which,  as  we  have  said,  remained  standing,  was  at  the 
extreme  edge  of  the  rock.  It  was,  Spiagudry  told  Or- 
dener,  from  the  top  of  this  tower  that  Munkholm  light- 
house could  be  seen.  They  went  towards  it,  although  the 
darkness  was  at  that  moment  complete,  the  moon  being 
hidden  by  a  great  black  cloud.  They  were  about  to  cross 
a  breach  in  another  wall,  in  order  to  enter  what  was 

^  The  dogfish  are  greatlv  dreaded  by  fishermen,  because  they  frighten 
other  fish. 


HANS  OF  ICELAND.  241 

once  the  second  courtyard  of  the  castle,  when  Benignus 
stopped  short,  and  suddenly  seized  Ordener's  arm  with 
such  a  trembling  hand  that  the  young  man  himself  almost 
fell. 

"  What  now  ? "  asked  Ordener  in  surprise. 

Benignus,  without  answering,  pressed  his  arm  more 
firmly,  as  if  begging  him  to  be  silent. 

"  Well  —  "  said  the  young  man. 

Another  pressure,  accompanied  by  an  ill-suppressed  sigh, 
decided  him  to  wait  patiently  until  this  fresh  fright  should 
cease. 

At  last  Spiagudry  asked,  in  a  stifled  voice :  "  Well, 
master,  what  do  you  say  now  ? " 

"  To  what  ?  "  said  Ordener. 

"  Yes,  sir,"  added  the  other,  in  the  same  tone  ;  "  I  sup- 
pose you  are  sorry  now  that  you  came  here  ? " 

"  No,  indeed,  my  worthy  guide  ;  on  the  contrary,  I  hope 
to  climb  higher  stilL  Why  should  you  think  that  I  am 
sorry  ? " 

"  What,  sir,  did  you  not  see  ? " 

"See!    What?" 

"  You  saw  nothing  ?  "  repeated  the  honest  keeper,  with 
ever-increasing  terror. 

"  Truly  I  did  not,"  impatiently  answered  Ordener ;  "  I 
saw  nothing,  and  I  heard  nothing  but  the  sound  of  your 
teeth  chattering  with  fright." 

"  What !  not  behind  that  wall,  in  the  shadow,  those  two 
flaming  eyes,  like  comets,  fixed  directly  upon  us,  —  did  you 
not  see  them  ?  " 

"  Upon  my  honor,  I  did  not." 

VOL.  IX. —  16 


242  HANS  OF  ICELAND. 

"  You  did  not  see  them  move  up  and  down,  and  then 
disappear  among  the  ruins  ? " 

"  I  don't  know  what  you  are  talking  about.  Besides, 
■what  if  I  did  see  them  ? " 

"  What !  Mr.  Ordener,  don't  you  know  that  there  is  but 
one  man  in  Norway  whose  eyes  gleam  in  that  way  in  the 
dark  ? " 

"  Well,  and  what  then  ?  Who  is  this  man  with  the 
eyes  of  a  cat  ?  Is  it  Hans,  your  much-dreaded  Icelander  ? 
So  much  the  better  if  he  be  here !  It  will  spare  us  a 
journey  to  Walderhog." 

This  "  so  much  the  better  "  was  not  to  the  taste  of  Spia- 
gudry,  who  could  not  help  betraying  his  secret  thought 
by  the  involuntary  ejaculation  :  "  Oh,  sir,  you  promised 
to  leave  me  at  the  village  of  Surb,  a  mile  away  from  the 
battle." 

The  generous  and  kindly  Ordener  understood,  and  smiled. 

"  You  are  right,  old  man ;  it  would  be  unfair  to  make 
you  share  my  danger;  therefore  fear  nothing.  You  see 
this  Hans  of  Iceland  everywhere.  May  there  not  be  some 
wildcat  lurking  among  these  ruins,  whose  eyes  shine  quite 
as  fiercely  as  his  do  ? " 

Once  more  Spiagudry's  fears  were  set  at  rest,  either 
because  Ordener's  suggestion  struck  him  as  very  plausi- 
ble, or  because  his  young  companion's  composure  proved 
contagious. 

"  Ah,  sir,"  said  he,  "  if  it  had  not  been  for  you  I  should 
have  died  a  dozen  deaths  from  fright  as  I  climbed  these 
rocks.  To  be  sure,  I  should  never  have  attempted  such  a 
task  if  it  had  not  been  for  you." 


HANS  OF  ICELAND.  243 

The  moon,  which  now  broke  through  the  clouds,  showed 
them  the  gateway  to  the  highest  tower,  the  foot  of  which 
they  had  already  reached.  They  entered,  after  raising  a 
thick  curtain  of  vines,  which  showered  them  with  drowsy 
lizards  and  old  decayed  bird's-nests.  The  keeper  picked 
up  a  couple  of  pebbles,  and  striking  them  together,  pro- 
duced a  few  sparks,  by  means  of  which  he  soon  set  fire 
to  a  heap  of  dead  leaves  and  dry  branches  collected  by 
Ordener.  In  a  few  moments  a  bright  column  of  flame 
rose  into  the  air,  and  banishing  the  darkness  about 
them,  permitted  them  to  examine  the  interior  of  the 
tower. 

Nothing  was  left  but  a  circular  wall,  which  was  very 
thick,  and  was  overgrown  with  moss  and  vines.  The  ceil- 
ing and  floors  of  its  four  stories  had  crumbled  away  one 
after  the  other,  and  now  formed  a  vast  heap  of  rubbish 
upon  the  ground.  A  narrow  spiral  staircase,  entirely 
without  a  railing,  and  broken  in  various  places,  was  built 
in  the  wall,  to  the  top  of  which  it  led.  As  the  fire  began 
to  crackle  cheerily,  a  swarm  of  owls  and  ospreys  flew  up 
heavily,  with  strange,  weird  cries,  and  huge  bats  now 
and  then  hovered  above  the  flames,  poised  upon  their 
ashen  wings. 

"  Our  hosts  do  not  receive  us  very  merrily,"  said 
Ordener;  "but  do  not  take  fright  again." 

"  I,  sir,"  replied  Spiagudry,  seating  himself  close  to  the 
fire  ;  "  I  fear  an  owl  or  a  bat !  I  have  dwelt  with  corpses, 
and  I  do  not  fear  vampires.  Ah,  I  only  dread  the  living ! 
I  am  not  brave,  I  admit ;  but  at  least  I  am  not  supersti- 
tious.   Come,  sir,  take  my  advice ;  let  us  laugh  at  these 


244  HANS  OF  ICELAND. 

ladies  in  black  petticoats  and  with  such  hoarse  voices,  and 
let  us  be  thinking  of  supper." 

Ordener  thought  of  nothing  but  Munkholm. 

"  I  have  here  a  few  provisions,"  said  Spiagudry,  drawing 
his  knapsack  from  under  his  cloak ;  "  but  if  your  appetite 
be  as  good  as  mine,  this  black  bread  and  mouldy  cheese 
will  not  go  far.  I  see  that  we  shall  have  to  observe 
the  limits  of  the  law  laid  down  by  the  French  king, 
Philip  the  Fair,  —  Nemo  audeat  comedere  prccter  duo 
fercula  cum  potagio.  There  must  be  nests  of  gulls  or 
pheasants  on  the  top  of  this  tower;  but  how  are  we 
to  get  there  by  that  dilapidated  staircase,  which  does 
not  look  as  if  it  would  bear  the  weight  of  anything  but 
a  sylph?" 

"  Still,"  answered  Ordener,  "  it  must  needs  bear  mine, 
for  I  shall  certainly  climb  to  the  top  of  this  tower." 

"  What,  master  !  to  get  a  few  gull's-nests  ?  Do  not,  for 
mercy's  sake,  be  so  rash !  It  is  not  worth  while  to  kill 
yourself  for  the  sake  of  a  better  supper.  Besides,  suppose 
you  should  make  a  mistake  and  take  the  nests  of  these 
owls  ? " 

"  Much  I  care  for  your  nests !  Did  n't  you  tell  me 
that  I  could  see  Munkholm  light  from  the  top  of  this 
tower  ? " 

"  So  you  can,  young  master  ;  it  lies  to  the  south.  I  see 
that  your  desire  to  establish  this  point,  so  important  to 
the  science  of  geography,  was  your  motive  for  taking 
this  fatiguing  journey  to  Vermund  castle.  But  do  con- 
sider, good  Mr.  Ordener,  that  it  may  sometimes  be  the 
duty  of  a  zealous  student  to  brave  toil  and  hardship,  but 


HANS  OF  ICELAND.  245 

never  to  run  into  danger.  I  implore  you,  do  not  attempt 
that  poor  broken-down  staircase,  upon  which  even  a  crow 
would  not  venture  to  perch." 

Benignus  was  by  no  means  anxious  to  be  left  alone  in 
the  tower.  As  he  rose  to  take  Ordener's  hand,  his  knap- 
sack, which  was  lying  across  his  knees,  fell  upon  some 
stones,  and  gave  forth  a  clear  metallic  ring. 

"  What  have  you  in  your  wallet  that  rings  so  loudly  ? " 
asked  Ordener. 

This  was  such  a  delicate  question  that  Spiagudry  lost  all 
desire  to  restrain  his  young  companion. 

"  Well,"  said  he,  without  answering  the  question,  "  if,  in 
spite  of  all  my  prayers,  you  persist  in  climbing  to  the  top 
of  this  tower,  at  least  beware  of  the  broken  places  in  the 
stairs." 

'•'  But,"  repeated  Ordener,  "  you  have  not  told  me  what 
you  have  in  your  knapsack  to  make  it  sound  so 
metallic." 

This  indiscreet  persistence  was  extremely  unpleasant  to 
the  old  keeper,  who  cursed  the  questioner  from  the  bottom 
of  his  soul. 

"  Oh,  noble  master,"  he  replied,  "  how  can  you  show 
such  curiosity  about  a  paltry  iron  barber's-basin,  which 
clinked  against  a  stone?  If  I  cannot  persuade  you  to 
change  your  mind,"  he  made  haste  to  add,  "  come  back  a3 
soon  as  you  can,  and  be  careful  to  hold  fast  to  the  vines 
which  cover  the  wall.  You  will  see  Munkholra  lighfc* 
house  to  the  south,  between  Frigga's  Footstools." 

Spiagudry  could  not  have  said  anything  better  calcu-» 
lated  to  drive  every  other  idea  out  of  the  young  man's 


246  HANS  OF  ICELAND. 

head.  Ordener,  throwing  aside  his  mantle,  sprang  toward 
the  staircase,  up  which  the  keeper  followed  him  with  his 
eyes  until  he  could  only  see  him  move  like  a  faint  shadow 
upward  to  the  top  of  the  wall,  dimly  lighted  by  the 
flickering  flames  and  the  cold  rays  of  the  moon. 

Then  reseating  himself  and  picking  up  his  knapsack, 
he  said :  "  Now,  my  dear  Benignus  Spiagudry,  while  that 
young  lynx  cannot  see  you,  and  you  are  alone,  make 
haste  and  break  the  cumbrous  iron  envelope  which  pre- 
vents you  from  taking  possession,  oculis  et  manu,  of  the 
treasure  undoubtedly  contained  in  this  casket.  When  it 
is  delivered  from  its  prison,  it  will  be  lighter  to  carry 
and  easier  to  conceal." 

Arming  himself  with  a  huge  stone,  he  was  about  to 
break  the  lid  of  the  box,  when  the  firelight,  falling  on  the 
iron  lock,  suddenly  arrested  the  antiquarian. 

"By  Saint  Willibrod  the  Numismatologist,  I  am  not 
mistaken,"  he  exclaimed,  eagerly  rubbing  the  rusty  lid ; 
"those  are  indeed  the  arms  of  Griffenfeld.  I  came  near 
doing  a  very  fooHsh  thing  in  breaking  this  lock.  This 
may  be  the  only  perfect  copy  in  existence  of  those  famous 
armorial  bearings  destroyed  in  1676  by  the  hangman's 
hand.  The  devil !  I  will  not  touch  this  box.  Whatever 
may  be  the  value  of  its  contents,  unless,  as  seems  scarcely 
probable,  it  should  be  coin  of  Palmyra  or  Carthaginian 
money,  this  is  certainly  still  more  precious.  So  here  I  am 
the  sole  owner  of  the  now  obsolete  arras  of  Griffenfeld ! 
Let  me  hide  this  treasure  carefully,  and  I  may  some  time 
discover  the  secret  of  opening  the  casket  without  com- 
mitting an  act  of  vandalism.     The  Griffenfeld  arms !     Oh, 


HANS  OF  ICELAND.  247 

yes !  here  are  the  hand  of  Justice  and  the  scales  upon  a 
gules  ground.     What  luck ! " 

At  each  fresh  heraldic  discovery  that  he  made  as  he 
polished  the  ancient  coft'er,  he  uttered  a  cry  of  admiration 
or  an  exclamation  of  content. 

"  By  means  of  a  solvent,  I  can  open  the  box  without 
breaking  the  lock.  It  probably  contains  the  ex-chan- 
cellor's treasure.  If  any  one,  tempted  by  the  bait  of  the 
four  crowns  offered  by  the  council  for  my  head,  should 
recognize  me  now  and  stop  me,  I  can  readily  buy  my 
freedom.     So  this  blessed  casket  will  save  me." 

As  he  spoke,  he  looked  up  mechanically.  All  at  once 
his  grotesque  features  changed  with  lightning  speed  from 
an  expression  of  intense  delight  to  that  of  stupefied  dis- 
may ;  his  limbs  trembled  convulsively,  his  eyes  became 
fixed,  his  brow  furrowed,  his  mouth  gaped  wide,  and  his 
voice  stuck  in  his  throat. 

Before  him,  on  the  other  side  of  the  fire,  stood  a  little 
man  with  folded  arms.  By  his  dress  of  blood-stained 
skins,  his  stone  axe,  his  red  beard,  and  the  ravenous  stare 
fastened  on  his  face,  the  wretched  keeper  at  once  recog- 
nized the  frightful  character  whose  last  visit  he  had 
received  in  the  Spladgest  at  Throndhjem. 

"  It  is  I ! "  said  the  little  man,  with  terrible  calm- 
ness. "  That  casket  will  save  you,"  he  added  with  a  bit- 
terly sarcastic  smile.  "  Spiagudry,  is  this  the  way  to 
Thoctree  ? " 

The  unfortunate  man  tried  to  stammer  a  word  of  excuse. 

"  Thoctree  !  Sir  —  My  lord  and  master,  —  I  wa» 
going  —  '* 


248  HANS  OF  ICELAND. 

"  You  were  going  to  Walderhog,"  replied  the  other,  in  a 
voice  of  thunder. 

The  terrified  Spiagudry  mustered  all  his  forces  to  deny 
the  charge. 

"  You  were  guiding  an  enemy  to  my  retreat.  I  thank 
you !  'T  will  he  one  living  man  the  less.  Fear  nothing, 
faithful  guide ;  he  shall  follow  you." 

The  luckless  keeper  strove  to  shriek,  but  could  with 
difficulty  utter  a  feeble  moan. 

"  Why  are  you  so  frightened  at  my  presence  ?  You 
were  seeking  me.  Hark  ye !  Do  not  speak,  or  you  are 
a  dead  man." 

The  little  man  swung  his  stone  axe  above  the  keeper's 
iead.  He  added,  in  a  voice  which  sounded  like  the  roar 
of  a  mountain  torrent  as  it  bursts  from  some  subterranean 
cave :  "  You  have  betrayed  me." 

"  No,  your  Grace !  No,  your  Excellency ! "  gasped  Be- 
nignus,  scarcely  able  to  articulate  these  words  of  apology 
and  entreaty. 

The  other  gave  vent  to  a  low  growL 

"  Ah !  you  would  deceive  me  again  !  Hope  not  to  suc- 
ceed. Listen !  I  was  on  the  roof  of  the  Spladgest  when 
you  sealed  your  compact  with  that  mad  fool;  twice  you 
have  heard  my  voice.  It  was  my  voice  you  heard  amid 
the  storm  upon  your  road ;  it  was  I  whom  you  met  in 
Vygla  tower ;  it  was  I  who  said, '  We  shall  meet  again !  * " 

The  terrified  keeper  looked  about  him  in  despair,  as  if 
to  summon  help.  The  little  man  went  on :  "I  could 
not  let  those  soldiers  who  pursued  you,  escape  my  wrath ; 
they  belonged  to  the  Munkholm  regiment.     I  knew  that 


HANS  OF  ICELAND.  249 

I  should  not  lose  you.  Spiagudry,  it  was  I  whom  you 
saw  again  in  Oelmoe  village  beneath  the  miner's  hat;  it 
was  my  footstep  and  my  voice  that  you  heard,  and  my 
eyes  that  you  saw  as  you  climbed  to  these  ruins.  It 
was  I ! " 

Alas !  the  unfortunate  man  was  but  too  well  convinced 
of  these  dreadful  truths.  He  rolled  upon  the  ground  at 
the  feet  of  his  fearful  judge,  crying  in  faint  and  agonizing 
accents,  "  Mercy  ! " 

The  little  man,  his  arms  still  folded,  fixed  upon  him  a 
murderous  look,  more  scorching  even  than  the  flames  upon 
the  hearth. 

"  Ask  that  casket  to  save  you,  as  you  said  it  would  do," 
he  said  sarcastically. 

"  Mercy,  sir,  mercy ! "  repeated  the  expiring  victim. 

"  I  warned  you  to  be  faithful  and  to  be  dumb.  You 
have  not  been  faithful;  but  in  future  I  protest  that  you 
shall  be  dumb." 

The  keeper,  grasping  the  horrible  meaning  of  these 
words,  uttered  a  deep  groan. 

"Fear  nothing,"  said  the  man;  "I  will  not  part  you 
from  your  treasure." 

At  these  words,  unfastening  his  leather  belt,  he  passed 
it  through  a  ring  on  the  cover  of  the  casket,  and  by  this 
means  hung  it  about  Spiagudry's  neck,  the  poor  fellow 
bending  beneath  its  weight. 

"  Come  ! "  rejoined  the  monster,  "  to  what  devil  will  you 
confide  your  soul?  Make  haste  and  summon  him,  lest 
another  demon  whom  you  do  not  care  about,  take  posses- 
sion of  it  before  him." 


250  HANS  OF  ICELAND. 

The  desperate  old  man,  past  all  power  of  speech,  fell  at 
the  little  mau's  knees,  making  countless  gestures  of  terror 
and  entreaty. 

"  No,  no  ! "  said  his  tormentor ;  "  my  faithful  Spiagudry, 
you  need  not  be  distressed  at  leaving  your  young  com- 
panion without  a  guide.  I  promise  you  that  he  shall  go 
where  you  go.  Follow  me;  you  do  but  show  him  the 
way.     Come ! " 

With  these  words,  seizing  the  wretched  man  in  his 
powerful  arms,  he  bore  him  from  the  tower  as  a  tiger 
might  carry  off  a  writhing  sei-pent,  and  a  moment  later 
a  fearful  shriek  rang  through  the  ruins,  mingled  with  a 
horrible  burst  of  laughter. 


XXIII 


Tes,  we  iB»y  reveal  to  the  faithful  lover's  tear-wet  eye  the  distant  object 
of  his  adoration.  But  alas  !  the  moments  of  expectation,  the  farewells, 
the  thoughts,  the  sweet  and  bitter  memories,  the  enchanting  dreams  of  two 
beings  that  love  1    Who  can  restore  these  ?—  Maturin:  Bertram. 


MEANTIME  the  venturesome  Ordener,  after  a  score 
or  more  of  narrow  escapes  from  a  fall  during 
his  perilous  ascent,  reached  the  top  of  the  thick,  round 
tower  wall.  At  his  unexpected  visit,  dusky  old  owls 
abruptly  aroused  from  their  nests,  flew  up,  staring  at  him 
as  they  sailed  away,  and  loose  stones,  displaced  by  his 
tread,  rolled  into  the  abyss,  rebounding  from  projections 
in  the  masonry  with  a  remote,  hollow  roar. 

At  any  other  time,  Ordener's  gaze  would  have  roamed 
far  and  wide,  and  his  mind  would  have  dwelt  upon  the 
depth  of  the  gulf  yawning  beneath  him,  which  seemed 
even  greater  from  the  thick  darkness  of  the  night.     His 


252  HANS   OF  ICELAND. 

eye,  taking  in  all  the  great  masses  of  shadow  on  the 
horizon,  their  sombre  outlines  but  half  revealed  by  a 
nebulous  moon,  would  have  striven  to  distinguish  between 
mist  and  rocks,  between  mountains  and  clouds;  his 
imagination  would  have  lent  life  to  all  the  gigantic  forms, 
the  fantastic  shapes  with  which  moonlight  clothes  hills 
and  vapors.  He  would  have  listened  to  the  indistinct 
murmur  of  lake  and  woods  blended  with  the  shrill  soush 
of  the  wind  through  the  crevices  in  the  stones  and 
through  the  dried  grass  at  his  feet,  and  his  fancy  would 
have  lent  words  to  all  those  low  voices  through  which 
material  Nature  speaks  while  man  sleeps,  in  the  silence 
of  the  night.  But  although  the  scene  unconsciously 
acted  upon  his  whole  being,  other  thoughts  filled  his 
mind.  Hardly  had  his  foot  touched  the  top  of  the 
wall,  when  his  eye  turned  to  the  southern  sky,  and  he 
thrilled  with  unspeakable  rapture  as  he  saw  beyond  and 
between  two  small  mountains  a  point  of  light  gleaming 
upon  the  horizon  like  a  red  star.  It  was  Munkholm 
beacon. 

None  but  those  who  have  tasted  the  truest  joys  which 
life  can  give  can  understand  the  young  man's  happiness. 
His  soul  was  filled  with  delight ;  his  heart  beat  violently. 
Motionless,  his  eye  fixed,  he  gazed  at  the  star  of  hope  and 
consolation.  It  seemed  as  if  that  beam  of  light  traversing 
the  darkness,  and  coming  from  the  spot  which  held  all 
that  made  life  worth  living,  bore  with  it  something  of 
his  Ethel.  Ah !  do  not  doubt  it ;  one  soul  may  some- 
times hold  mysterious  communion  with  another,  though 
widely  parted  by  time  and  space.    In  vain  the  world  of 


HANS  OF  ICELAND.  253 

reality  rears  its  barriers  between  two  beings  who  love ; 
inhabitants  of  an  ideal  world,  tliey  are  present  to  each 
other  in  absence,  they  are  united  in  death.  What  can 
mere  bodily  separation  or  physical  distance  avail  if  two 
hearts  be  indissolubly  bound  by  a  single  thought  and 
a  common  desire  ?  True  love  may  suffer,  but  it  cannot 
die. 

Who  has  not  repeatedly  lingered  on  a  rainy  night 
beneath  some  dimly  lighted  window  ?  Who  has  not 
passed  and  repassed  a  certain  door,  rapturously  wan- 
dered up  and  down  before  a  certain  house  ?  Who  has 
not  abruptly  retraced  his  steps,  to  follow,  at  evening, 
along  some  deserted,  winding  street,  a  floating  skirt  or 
a  white  veil  suddenly  recognized  in  the  twilight  ?  He 
who  has  never  experienced  these  feelings  may  safely  say 
that  he  has  never  loved. 

As  he  gazed  at  the  distant  lighthouse,  Ordener  pon- 
dered. A  sad  and  ironical  contentment  took  the  place 
of  his  first  transports ;  a  thousand  varying  thoughts  and 
ideas  crowded  upon  his  agitated  spirit.  "Yes,"  said  he, 
"a  man  must  labor  long  and  painfully  to  win  at  last 
a  ray  of  happiness  in  the  vast  night  of  existence.  So 
«he  is  there  !  She  sleeps,  she  dreams,  perhaps  she  thinks 
of  me !  But  who  will  tell  her  that  her  Ordener  even  now 
hangs  above  an  abyss,  sad  and  lonely,  surrounded  by  dark- 
ness, — her  Ordener,  who  retains  nothing  of  her  but  a 
single  ringlet  pressed  to  his  heart  and  a  faint  light  upon 
the  horizon ! "  Then,  looking  at  the  ruddy  glow  of  the 
huge  fire  burning  in  the  tower  beneath,  and  escaping 
through  the  crevices  in  the  wall,  he  murmured :  "  Perhaps 


254  HAJJS  OF  ICELAND. 

from  one  of  her  prison  windows  she  casts  an  indifferent 
glance  at  the  far-off  flame  upon  this  hearth." 

All  at  once,  a  loud  shriek  and  a  prolonged  burst  of 
laughter  rose  from  the  brink  of  the  precipice  below ;  he 
turned  abruptly,  and  saw  that  the  interior  of  the  tower 
vvas  vacant.  Alarmed  for  the  safety  of  the  old  man,  he 
hurriedly  descended;  but  he  had  taken  but  a  few  steps 
when  he  heard  a  dull  splash,  as  if  a  hsp.vy  body  had  been 
thrown  into  the  deep  waters  of  the  hkr^ 


XXIV. 


Count  Don  SancHo  Diaz,  lord  of  Saldana,  shed  bitter  tears  in  hl3 
prison  cell.  Full  of  despair,  he  sighed  forth  in  solitude  his  complaints 
against  King  Alfonso:  "  Oh,  sad  moments,  when  my  white  locks  remind 
me  how  many  years  I  have  already  passed  in  this  horrible  prison  !  "  —  Old 
Spanish  Eomance. 


THE  sun  was  setting,  and  its  horizontal  beams  threw 
the  dark  shadow  of  the  prison-bars  upon  Schu- 
macker's  woollen  gown  and  Ethel's  crape  dress,  as  they 
sat  by  the  high-arched  casement,  the  old  man  in  a  great 
Gothic  chair,  the  young  girl  upon  a  stool  at  his  feet.  The 
prisoner  seemed  to  be  brooding,  in  his  favorite  melancholy 
attitude.  His  bald,  wrinkled  brow  rested  on  his  hand, 
and  his  face  was  hidden  save  for  the  long  white  beard 
which  hung  down  his  breast  in  sad  disorder. 

"  Father,"  said  Ethel,  trying  by  every  means  to  rouse 
him,  "  my  lord  and  father,  I  dreamed  last  night  of  a  happy 


256  HANS  OF  ICELAND. 

future.  Look,  dear  father ;  raise  your  eyes,  and  see  that 
bright,  cloudless  sky." 

"  I  can  only  see  the  sky,"  tlie  old  man  replied,  "  through 
my  prison-bars,  as  I  can  only  see  your  future,  Ethel, 
through  my  misfortunes." 

Then  his  head,  for  an  instant  lifted,  fell  back  upon  his 
hands,  and  both  were  silent. 

"  Father,"  rejoined  the  young  girl,  a  moment  later,  in  a 
timid  voice,  "  are  you  thinking  of  Lord  Ordener  ?  " 

"Ordener?"  said  the  old  man,  as  if  striving  to  recall 
the  name.  "  Ah,  I  know  whom  you  mean !  What  of 
him?" 

"Do  you  think  that  he  will  soon  return,  father?  He 
has  been  gone  so  long !  —  this  is  the  fourth  day." 

The  old  man  shook  his  head  sadly. 

"  I  think  that  when  four  years  have  passed,  his  return 
will  be  as  close  at  hand  as  it  is  to-day." 

Ethel  turned  pale. 

"  Heavens !  Then  you  think  that  he  will  not  come 
back?" 

Schumacker  made  no  answer.  The  young  girl  repeated 
her  question  in  an  anxious  and  beseeching  tone. 

"  Did  he  not  promise  to  return  ? "  said  the  old  man, 
curtly. 

"  Yes,  to  be  sure  ! "  eagerly  answered  Ethel 

"  Well,  how  can  you  reckon  upon  his  coming,  then  ?  Is 
he  not  a  man  ?  I  believe  that  the  vulture  will  return  to 
a  dead  body,  but  I  have  no  faith  in  the  return  of  spring 
when  the  year  is  on  the  wane." 

Ethel,  seeing   that  her  father  had   relapsed  into   his 


HANS  OF  ICELAND.  257 

wonted  melancholy,  took  courage ;  the  voice  of  her  young 
and  virginal  soul  proudly  denied  the  old  man's  morbid 
philosophy. 

"  Father,"  she  said  firmly,  "  Lord  Ordener  will  return  j 
he  is  not  like  other  men." 

"What  do  you  know  about  it,  girl  ?  " 

"  What  you  know  yourself,  my  lord  and  father." 

"  I  know  nothing,"  said  the  old  man.  "  I  heard  words 
from  a  man,  and  they  promised  the  actions  of  a  god." 
Then  he  added,  with  a  bitter  smile :  "  I  have  weighed 
them  well,  and  I  see  that  they  are  too  beautiful  to  be 
true." 

"And  I,  sir,  believe  them  because  they  are  so  beautiful." 

"  Oh,  girl,  if  you  were  what  you  should  be,  Countess  of 
Tonsberg  and  Princess  of  Wollin,  surrounded,  as  you 
would  be,  by  a  swarm  of  handsome  traitors  and  selfish 
adorers,  such  credulity  would  be  most  dangerous." 

"  It  is  not  credulity,  my  lord  and  father,  but 
confidence." 

"  It  is  easy  to  see,  Ethel,  that  there  is  French  blood  in 
your  veins." 

This  idea  led  the  old  man,  by  an  imperceptible  transi- 
tion, to  a  different  train  of  thought,  and  he  added,  with  a 
certain  complacency :  — 

"  For  those  who  degraded  your  father  to  a  point  lower 
yet  than  that  from  which  he  had  raised  himself,  can- 
not deny  that  you  are  the  daughter  of  Charlotte,  Prin- 
cess  of  Tarentum,  or  that  one  of  your  ancestresses  was 
Adela  (or  Edila),  Countess  of  Flanders,  whose  name  you 
tear." 

'OL.  IX.~  17 


258  HANS  OF  ICELAND. 

Ethel's  mind  was  running  on  quite  other  things. 

"  Father,  you  misjudge  the  noble  Ordener." 

"  Noble,  my  daughter !  What  do  you  mean  by  that  ? 
I  have  made  men  noble  who  proved  themselves  very 
vile." 

"  I  do  not  mean,  sir,  that  his  nobility  is  of  the  kind  con- 
ferred by  man." 

"  Do  you  know  that  he  is  descended  from  some  '  jarl  * 
or  'hersa'?"! 

"  I  know  as  little  of  his  descent  as  you  do,  father.  He 
may  be,"  she  added,  with  downcast  eyes,  "  the  son  of  a 
vassal  or  a  serf.  Alas  !  crowns  and  lyres  may  be  painted 
upon  the  velvet  covering  of  a  footstool.  I  only  mean 
that,  judged  by  your  own  standard,  my  revered  sire,  he 
has  a  noble  heart." 

Of  all  the  men  whom  she  had  seen,  Ordener  was  the 
one  whom  Ethel  knew  at  once  best  and  least.  He  had 
dawned  upon  her  destiny,  like  one  of  those  angels  who 
visited  the  first  men,  wrapped  alike  in  mystery  and 
in  radiant  light.  Their  mere  presence  revealed  their  na- 
ture, and  they  were  at  once  adored.  Thus  Ordener  had 
shown  Ethel  what  men  usually  conceal,  his  heart ;  he 
had  been  silent  concerning  that  of  which  they  usually 
make  boast,  his  country  and  his  family.  His  look  was 
enough  for  Ethel,  and  she  had  faith  in  his  words.  She 
loved  him,  she  had  given  him  her  life,  she  was  intimate 
with  his  soul,  and  she  did  not  know  his  name. 

*  The  ancient  aristocracy  of  Norway,  before  Griffenfeld  established  a 
regular  order  of  nobility,  were  entitled  "hersa"  (baron)  or  "jarl"  (count) 
The  English  word  "  earl  "  is  derived  from  the  latter. 


HANS  OF  ICELAND.  259 

•*  A  noble  heart ! "  repeated  the  old  man ;  a  noble 
heart !  Such  nobility  is  higher  than  any  in  the  gilt  of 
kings ;  it  is  the  gift  of  God.  He  is  less  lavish  with  it 
than  are  they." 

The  prisoner  raised  his  eyes  to  his  shattered  escutcheon 
as  he  added :  "  And  he  never  withdraws  it." 

"  Then,  father,"  said  the  girl,  "  he  who  retains  the 
one  should  be  easily  consoled  for  the  loss  of  the 
other." 

These  words  startled  her  father  and  restored  his  cour- 
age.    He  replied  in  a  firm  voice  :  — 

"  You  are  right,  girl.  But  you  do  not  know  that  the 
disgrace  held  by  the  world  to  be  unjust  is  sometimes  con- 
firmed by  our  secret  conscience.  Such  is  our  poor  nature ; 
once  unhappy,  countless  voices  which  slumbered  in  the 
time  of  our  prosperity  wake  within  us  and  accuse  us  of 
faults  and  errors  before  unnoted." 

"  Say  not  so,  illustrious  father,"  said  Ethel,  deeply 
moved ;  for  by  the  old  man's  altered  voice,  she  felt  that 
he  had  allowed  the  secret  source  of  one  of  his  greatest 
sorrows  to  escape  him. 

She  raised  her  eyes  to  his  face,  and  kissing  his  pallid, 
withered  hand,  she  added  gently  :  "  You  are  severe  in 
your  judgment  of  two  noble  men.  Lord  Ordener  and 
yourself,  my  revered  father." 

"You  decide  lightly,  Ethel.  One  would  say  that  you 
did  not  know  that  life  is  a  serious  matter." 

"  Am  I  wrong  then,  sir,  to  do  justice  to  the  generous 
Ordener  ? " 

Schumacker  frowned,  with  a  dissatisfied  air. 


260  HANS  OF  ICELAND. 

"I  cannot  approve,  my  daughter,  of  such  admiration 
for  a  stranger  whom  you  may  never  see  again." 

"  Oh,"  said  the  young  girl,  upon  whose  soul  these  cold 
words  fell  like  a  heavy  weight,  "  do  not  believe  it.  We 
shall  see  him  again.  Was  it  not  for  your  sake  that  he 
went  forth  to  brave  such  danger  ? " 

"  Like  yourself,  I  confess  that  I  was  at  first  deceived  by 
his  promises.  But  no ;  he  will  never  go  upon  his  mission, 
and  therefore  he  will  never  return  to  us." 

"  He  did  go,  sir  ;  he  did  go." 

The  tone  in  which  the  young  girl  pronounced  these 
words  was  almost  that  of  one  offended  and  insulted. 
She  felt  herself  outraged  in  her  Ordener's  person.  Alas ! 
she  was  only  too  sure  in  her  own  soul  of  the  truth  which 
she  asserted. 

The  prisoner  replied,  seemingly  unmoved :  "  Very  well. 
If  he  has  really  gone  to  fight  that  brigand,  if  he  has 
rushed  into  such  danger,  it  comes  to  the  same  thing,  — 
he  will  never  return." 

Poor  Ethel !  how  often  a  word  indifferently  uttered, 
painfully  galls  the  hidden  wound  in  an  anxious  and 
tortured  heart !  She  bent  her  pale  face  to  hide  from 
her  father's  stern  gaze  the  tears  which,  in  spite  of  all 
her  efforts,  fell  from  her  burning  eyes. 

"  Oh,  father,"  she  sighed,  "  while  you  speak  thus,  this 
noble  and  unfortunate  youth  may  be  dying  for  your 
sake!" 

The  aged  minister  shook  his  head  doubtfully. 

"  That  I  can  neither  believe  nor  wish.  And  even  so, 
how  am   I   to  blame  ?     I  should   merely   show   myself 


HANS  or  ICELAND.  261 

ungrateful  to  the  young  man,  as  so  many  others  have 
shown  themselves  to  me." 

A  deep  sigh  was  Ethel's  only  answer ;  and  Schumacker, 
turning  to  his  table,  tore  up  with  an  absent  air  a  few 
leaves  of  "  Plutarch's  Lives,"  which  volume  lay  before 
him,  already  tattered  in  countless  places,  and  covered 
with  marginal  notes.  A  moment  later  the  door  opened, 
and  Schumacker,  without  looking  up,  cried  out  as  usual : 
"  Do  not  enter !  do  not  disturb  me  !  I  will  see  no 
one!" 

"  It  is  his  Excellency  the  governor,"  was  the  answer. 

An  elderly  man  dressed  in  the  uniform  of  a  general, 
with  the  collars  of  the  Elephant,  the  Dannebrog,  and  the 
Golden  Eleece  about  his  neck,  advanced  toward  Schu- 
macker, who  half  rose,  muttering,  "  The  governor !  the 
governor ! "  The  general  bowed  respectfully  to  Ethel, 
as  she  stood  at  her  father's  side,  timidly  and  anxiously 
watching  him. 

Perhaps  before  proceeding  further,  it  will  be  well  briefly 
to  recall  the  motives  of  General  Levin's  visit  to  Munk- 
holm.  The  reader  will  remember  the  unpleasant  news 
which  disturbed  the  old  governor,  in  the  twentieth  chapter 
of  this  truthful  narrative.  On  receiving  it,  he  at  once  saw 
the  importance  of  questioning  Schumacker;  but  he  was 
extremely  reluctant  to  do  so.  The  idea  of  tormenting  a 
poor  prisoner,  already  a  prey  to  so  much  that  was  pain- 
ful, and  whom  he  had  known  in  his  days  of  power,  of 
severely  scanning  the  secrets  of  an  unfortunate  man,  even 
if  guilty,  was  most  unpleasant  to  his  kind  and  generoui 
soul.     Still,  his  duty  to  the  king  required  it.     He  ought 


262  HANS  OF  ICELAND. 

not  to  leave  Throndhjem  without  such  fresh  light  as 
might  be  gained  by  questioning  the  apparent  author  of 
the  rebellion  among  the  miners.  Accordingly,  the  night 
before  his  departure,  after  a  long  and  confidential  talk  with 
Countess  d'Ahlefeld,  the  governor  made  up  his  mind  to 
visit  the  prisoner.  As  he  approached  the  fortress,  thoughts 
of  the  interests  of  the  State,  of  the  advantage  to  which  his 
many  personal  enemies  might  turn  what  they  would  style 
his  negligence,  and  perhaps  too  the  crafty  words  of  the 
chancellor's  wife,  worked  within  him,  and  confirmed  him 
in  his  purpose.  He  therefore  climbed  to  the  Lion  of 
Schleswig  tower  with  every  intention  to  be  severe;  he 
resolved  to  bear  himself  toward  Schumacker  the  conspira- 
tor as  if  he  had  never  known  Griffenfeld  the  chancellor, 
—  to  cast  aside  all  his  memories,  and  even  his  natural 
disposition,  and  to  speak  as  a  firm  judge  to  this  former 
fellow-sharer  in  the  royal  favor. 

So  soon,  however,  as  he  entered  the  ex-chancellor's 
apartment,  the  old  man's  venerable  though  sombre  face 
made  a  strong  impression  upon  him ;  Ethel's  sweet 
though  dignified  expression  touched  him ;  and  with  his 
first  glance  at  the  two  prisoners,  his  stern  intentions  died 
within  him. 

He  advanced  toward  the  fallen  minister,  and  involun- 
tarily offered  him  his  hand,  saying,  without  remarking  that 
his  politeness  met  with  no  response  :  — 

"How  are  you,  Count  Griffenf — "  His  old  habit  over- 
came him  for  the  moment ;  then  he  corrected  himself 
quickly  —  "  Mr.  Schumacker  ? "  "With  this  he  paused, 
satisfied  and  exhausted  by  such  an  efibrt. 


HANS  OF  ICELAND.  263 

Silence  ensued.  The  general  racked  his  brain  to  find 
words  harsh  enough  to  correspond  with  this  brutal 
beginning. 

"  "Well,"  Schumacker  said  at  last,  "  are  you  the  governor 
of  the  province  of  Throndhjem  ? " 

The  governor,  somewhat  surprised  to  find  himself  ques- 
tioned by  the  man  he  had  meant  to  question,  bowed  his 
head. 

"  Then,"  added  the  prisoner,  "  I  have  a  complaint  to  lay 
before  you." 

"A  complaint!  What  is  it?  what  is  it?"  And  the 
kind-hearted  Levin's  countenance  assumed  a  look  of 
interest. 

Schumacker  went  on,  in  a  tone  of  considerable  annoy- 
ance :  "  By  order  of  the  viceroy  I  am  to  be  left  free  and 
undisturbed  in  this  donjon." 

"  I  am  aware  of  the  order." 

"  And  yet,  Governor,  I  am  importuned  and  annoyed  by 
visits." 

"  Visits !  and  from  whom  ? "  cried  the  general ;  "  tell  me 
who  dares  —  " 

"  You,  Governor.'* 

These  words,  uttered  in  a  haughty  tone,  offended  the 
general.  He  answered,  in  a  somewhat  irritated  voice : 
"You  forget  that  my  power  knows  no  limits  when  it  is 
a  question  of  serving  the  king." 

"  Unless,"  said  Schumacker,  "  it  were  those  of  the  respect 
due  to  misfortune.     But  men  know  nothing  of  that." 

The  ex-chancellor  said  this  as  if  speaking  to  himself 
The  governor  heard  him. 


264  HANS  OF  ICELAND. 

*'  Yes,  indeed !  yes,  indeed  !  I  was  wrong,  Count  Griff — 
Mr.  Sqhumacker,  I  should  say ;  I  should  leave  the  privilege 
of  anger  to  you,  since  the  power  is  mine." 

Schumacker  was  sUent  for  a  moment.  "  There  is,"  he 
resumed  thoughtfully,  "  something  about  your  face  and 
voice,  Governor,  which  reminds  me  of  a  man  I  once  knew. 
It  was  very  long  ago.  No  one  but  myself  can  remember 
those  days.  It  was  in  the  time  of  my  prosperity.  He 
was  one  Levin  de  Knud,  of  Mecklenburg.  Did  you  ever 
know  the  foolish  fellow  ? " 

"  I  knew  him,"  quietly  replied  the  general. 

"  Oh,  you  remember  him !  I  thought  it  was  only  in 
adversity  that  we  remembered." 

"  Was  he  not  a  captain  in  the  Eoyal  Guards  ? "  added 
the  governor. 

"Yes,  a  mere  captain,  although  the  king  loved  him 
dearly.  But  he  thought  of  nothing  but  pleasure,  and 
seemed  to  have  no  ambition.  He  was  a  strange,  mad 
fellow.  Can  you  conceive  that  a  favorite  could  be  so 
moderate  in  his  desires  ? " 

"  I  can  understand  it." 

*'  I  was  fond  of  this  Levin  de  Knud,  because  he  never 
gave  me  any  alarm.  He  was  the  king's  friend  as  he 
might  have  been  the  friend  of  any  other  man.  It  seemed 
as  if  he  loved  him  for  his  own  sake,  and  not  for  his 
position." 

The  general  would  have  interrupted  Schumacker;  but 
the  latter  persisted,  either  from  a  spirit  of  contradiction, 
or  because  the  train  of  thought  into  which  he  had  drifted 
really  pleased  him. 


HANS  OF  ICELAND.  265 

"Since  you  knew  this  Captain  Levin,  Governor,  ybu 
probably  know  that  he  had  a  son  who  died  young.  But  do 
you  remember  what  happened  at  the  birth  of  this  son  ? " 

"I  can  better  recall  what  occurred  at  the  time  of  his 
death,"  said  the  general,  covering  his  eyes  with  his  hand, 
and  in  a  faltering  voice. 

"But,"  continued  the  heedless  Schumacker,  "this  fact 
was  known  to  very  few  persons,  and  it  will  show  you  jnst 
how  peculiar  this  Levin  was.  The  king  wished  to  be  the 
child's  godfather ;  would  you  believe  that  Levin  refused  ? 
He  did  more ;  he  chose  an  old  beggar  who  hung  about  the 
palace  gates,  to  hold  his  son  at  the  baptismal  font.  I  never 
could  understand  the  reason  for  such  an  act  of  lunacy." 

"  I  will  tell  you,"  replied  the  general.  "  In  choosing  a 
guardian  for  his  son's  soul,  this  Captain  Levin  doubtless 
thought  that  a  poor  man  had  more  influence  with  God  than 
a  king." 

Schumacker  considered  for  a  moment,  then  said :  "  You 
are  right." 

The  governor  again  attempted  to  turn  the  conversation 
to  the  object  of  his  visit.     But  Schumacker  cut  him  short. 

"  Excuse  me ;  if  it  be  true  that  you  know  this  Levin  of 
Mecklenburg,  let  me  talk  of  him.  Of  all  the  men  whom 
I  knew  in  the  days  of  my  grandeur,  he  is  the  only  one 
whose  memory  does  not  inspire  me  with  disgust  or  horror. 
Although  he  carried  his  peculiarity  to  the  verge  of  folly,. 
his  noble  qualities,  none  the  less,  made  him  one  man  in  a 
thousand." 

"I  do  not  agree  with  you.  This  Levin  was  no  better 
than  other  men.     In  fact,  there  are  many  who  are  better." 


266  HANS  OF  ICELAND. 

Schumacker  folded  his  arms,  and  raised  his  eyes  to 
heaven.  "Yes,  that  is  the  way  with  them  all.  You  can- 
not praise  a  worthy  man  in  their  presence,  that  they  do 
not  instantly  seek  to  disparage  him.  They  poison  every- 
thing, even  the  pleasure  of  just  praise,  rare  as  it  is." 

"If  you  knew  me,  you  would  not  accuse  me  of  dis- 
paraging Gener —     I  mean.  Captain  Levin." 

"  Nonsense  !  nonsense,"  said  the  prisoner ;  "  for  loyalty 
and  generosity,  there  were  never  two  men  like  this  Levin 
de  Knud,  and  to  say  a  word  to  the  contrary  is  both  an 
outrageous  slander  and  a  flattery  of  this  miserable  human 
race," 

"I  assure  you,"  returned  the  general,  trying  to  as- 
suage Schumacker's  wrath,  "  that  I  have  not  the  slightest 
intention  of  wronging  Levin  de  Knud." 

"  Do  not  say  that.  Although  he  was  so  foolish,  the  rest 
of  mankind  is  anything  but  like  him.  They  are  a  false, 
ungrateful,  envious  set  of  slanderers.  Do  you  know  that 
Levin  de  Knud  gave  more  than  half  his  income  to  the 
Copenhagen  hospitals  ? " 

"  I  did  not  know  that  you  knew  it." 

"  There  it  is ! "  triumphantly  exclaimed  the  old  man. 
"  You  thought  that  you  could  safely  brand  him,  trusting 
to  my  ignorance  of  the  poor  fellow's  good  deeds !" 

"Not  at  all,  not  at  all!" 

"  Do  you  suppose,  too,  that  I  don't  know  that  he  per- 
suaded the  king  to  give  the  regiment  which  he  intended 
for  him,  to  an  officer  who  had  wounded  him  in  a  duel, 
because,  he  said,  the  other  outranked  him  ? " 

"  I  thought  that  transaction  was  a  secret." 


HANS  OF  ICELAND.  267 

"  Well,  tell  me,  Governor  of  Throndhjem,  does  that  make 
it  any  less  beautiful  ?  If  Levin  concealed  his  virtues,  is 
that  a  reason  for  denying  them  ?  Oh,  how  much  alike 
men  are !  How  dare  you  compare  the  noble  Levin  with 
them,  —  he  who,  when  he  could  not  save  a  soldier  con- 
victed of  an  attempt  to  murder  him,  settled  a  pension 
upon  his  murderer's  widow  ? " 

"  Pooh !  who  would  not  do  as  much  ? " 

Here  Schumacker  exploded.  "  Who  ?  You !  I !  Any 
other  man.  Sir  Governor !  Because  you  wear  the  showy 
uniform  of  a  general,  and  stars  and  crosses  on  your  breast, 
do  you  think  yourself  a  very  meritorious  person  ?  You 
are  a  general,  and  poor  Levin,  I  dare  say,  died  a  cap- 
tain. True,  he  was  a  foolish  fellow,  and  never  thought 
»f  promotion." 

"If  he  did  not  think  of  it  himself,  the  king  in  his 
goodness  thought  of  it  for  him." 

"Goodness?  Say,  rather,  justice,  if  there  be  such  a 
thing  as  the  justice  of  a  king !  Well,  what  signal  reward 
did  he  receive  ? " 

"His  Majesty  paid  Levin  de  Knud  far  beyond  hi3 
deserts." 

"  Capital ! "  cried  the  aged  minister,  clapping  his  hands. 
"  A  faithful  captain  is  perhaps,  after  thirty  years'  service, 
made  a  major ;  and  this  distinguished  mark  of  favor  offends 
you,  noble  general  ?  The  Persian  proverb  is  true  which 
says  that  the  setting  sun  is  jealous  of  the  rising  moon." 

Schumacker's  fury  was  so  great  that  the  general  could 
scarcely  get  in  the  words  :  "  If  you  persist  in  interrupting 
me  —    You  wiU  not  let  me  explain  —  " 


268  HANS  OF  ICELAND. 

"  No,  no ! "  continued  the  other ;  "  I  thought  at  first 
sight,  General,  that  I  caught  a  certain  likeness  between  you 
and  my  good  Levin ;  but  no !  there  is  none." 

"  Do  but  listen  to  me  —  " 

"  Listen  to  you  !  and  hear  you  say  that  Levin  de  Knud 
is  unworthy  of  some  trifling  reward  ? " 

"  I  swear  it  is  not  —  " 

"  You  will  presently  —  I  know  you  men  —  try  to  per- 
suade me  that  he  is  a  knave,  a  hypocrite,  and  a  villain, 
like  the  rest  of  you." 

"No,  indeed!" 

"  How  do  I  know  ?  Or  perhaps  that  he  betrayed  a 
friend,  persecuted  a  benefactor,  as  you  all  do ;  or  poisoned 
his  father,  or  murdered  his  mother  ? " 

"  You  are  mistaken.     I  have  not  the  slightest  desire  —  " 

"Do  you  know  that  it  was  he  who  compelled  Vice- 
chanceUor  Wind,  as  well  as  Scheele,  Vinding,  and  Justice 
Lasson,  three  of  my  judges,  not  to  sentence  me  to  death  ? 
And  you  would  have  me  hear  him  calumniated,  and  not 
defend  him !  Yes,  that  is  what  he  did  for  me,  and  yet  I 
had  always  done  him  more  harm  than  good ;  for  I  am 
like  you,  vile  and  wicked." 

The  noble  Levin  was  strangely  moved  by  this  singular 
interview.  The  object  alike  of  the  most  direct  insults  and 
the  sincerest  praise,  he  knew  not  how  to  take  such  rough 
compliments  and  such  flattering  abuse.  He  was  shocked 
and  touched.  Now  he  wanted  to  get  into  a  passion,  and 
now  to  thank  Schumacker.  Present  and  yet  unknown,  he 
loved  to  hear  the  fierce  Schumacker  defend  in  him,  and 
against  him,  a  friend  and  an  absent  man ;  only  he  would 


HANS  OF  ICELAND.  269 

have  preferred  that  his  advocate  should  put  a  trifle  less 
bitterness  and  acrimony  into  his  panegyric.  But  in  his 
innermost  heart  the  exaggerated  praise  bestowed  on  Captain 
Levin  pleased  him  even  more  than  the  insults  addressed 
to  the  governor  of  Throndhjem  wounded  him.  Fixing  his 
kindly  gaze  upon  the  favorite  in  disgrace,  he  allowed  him 
to  vent  his  gratitude  and  his  wrath ;  until  at  last,  after  a 
prolonged  invective  against  human  ingratitude,  he  sank 
exhausted  upon  an  arm-chair,  into  the  trembling  Ethel's 
arms,  saying  in  a  melancholy  voice :  "  Oh,  men  !  what 
have  I  done  that  I  should  be  forced  to  know  you  ? " 

The  general  had  not  yet  been  able  to  broach  the  impor- 
tant topic  of  his  visit  to  Munkholm.  All  his  reluctance 
to  torment  the  captive  by  a  series  of  questions,  revived ;  to 
his  pity  and  emotion  were  added  two  powerful  motives : 
Schumacker's  present  state  of  agitation  made  it  improba- 
ble that  he  could  answer  satisfactorily ;  and,  moreover,  on 
considering  the  affair  more  closely,  it  did  not  seem  to  the 
trusting  Levin  that  such  a  man  could  be  a  conspirator. 
Still,  how  could  he  leave  Throndhjem  without  examining 
Schumacker  ?  This  disagreeable  necessity  of  his  position 
as  governor  once  more  overcame  all  his  scruples,  and  he 
began  as  follows,  softening  his  voice  as  much  as  possible : 
"  Pray,  calm  your  excitement,  Count  Schumacker." 

This  compromise  struck  the  good  governor  as  a  happy 
inspiration,  well  fitted  to  reconcile  the  respect  due  to  the 
sentence  pronounced  against  him,  with  a  proper  regard  for 
the  prisoner's  misfortune,  as  it  combined  his  noble  title 
and  his  humble  cognomen.  He  added :  "  It  is  my  pain- 
ful duty  —  " 


270  HANS  OF  ICELAND. 

"First,"  interrupted  the  prisoner,  "allow  me,  Governor, 
to  return  to  a  subject  which  interests  me  far  more  than 
anything  that  your  Excellency  can  have  to  say  to  me. 
You  assured  me  just  now  that  that  madcap  Levin  had 
been  rewarded  for  his  services.  I  am  most  anxious  to 
know  in  what  way." 

"  His  Majesty,  my  lord  Griffenfeld,  raised  Levin  to  the 
rank  of  general,  and  for  more  than  twenty  years  the  fool- 
ish fellow  has  grown  old  in  peace,  honored  with  this 
military  dignity  and  the  favor  of  his  king." 

Schumacker's  head  drooped. 

"  Yes ;  that  foolish  Levin,  who  cared  so  little  whether 
he  ever  lived  to  be  more  than  a  captain,  will  die  a  gen- 
eral ;  and  the  wise  Schumacker,  who  expected  to  die  Lord 
Chancellor,  grows  old  a  prisoner  of  State." 

As  he  uttered  these  words,  he  hid  his  face  in  his  hands 
and  heaved  a  deep  sigh.  Ethel,  who  understood  nothing 
of  the  conversation,  save  that  it  distressed  her  father, 
instantly  strove  to  divert  him. 

"  Look  yonder,  father,  to  the  north ;  I  see  a  gleam  of 
light  which  I  never  noticed  before." 

In  fact,  the  night,  which  had  now  closed  in,  revealed 
a  faint  and  distant  light  upon  the  horizon,  apparently 
coming  from  some  far-off  mountain.  But  Schumacker's 
mind  and  eye  were  not,  like  those  of  Ethel,  ever  bent  on 
the  north ;  therefore  he  made  no  reply.  The  general  alone 
was  struck  by  the  young  girl's  remark. 

"It  may  be,"  thought  he,  "a  fire  kindled  by  the 
rebels ; "  and  this  idea  forcibly  reminding  him  of  the 
purpose  of  his  visit,  he  thus  addressed  the  prisoner :  "  Mr. 


HANS  OF  ICELAND.  271 

Grififenfeld,  I  am  sorry  to  distress  you,  but  you  must 
allow  me  —  " 

"  I  understand  you,  Governor ;  it  is  not  enough  to  spend 
my  days  in  this  dungeon,  to  lead  a  lonely,  disgraced  existi 
ence,  to  have  nothing  left  but  bitter  memories  of  past 
grandeur  and  power,  you  must  also  intrude  upon  my 
solitude,  gaze  upon  my  sorrow,  and  enjoy  my  misfor- 
tune. Since  that  noble  Levin  de  Knud,  whom  some  of 
your  outward  features  recall  to  me,  is  a  general  like  your- 
self, why  was  not  he  permitted  to  fill  your  post ;  for  he 
would  never,  I  swear,  Sir  Governor,  have  come  to  torture 
a  miserable  prisoner." 

During  the  course  of  this  strange  interview  the  general 
had  more  than  once  been  on  the  point  of  revealing  him- 
self, that  he  might  bring  it  to  a  close.  This  indirect  re- 
proach made  it  impossible ;  it  accorded  so  well  with  his 
secret  feelings  that  it  almost  made  him  feel  ashamed  of 
himself.  Still,  he  tried  to  answer  Schumacker's  injurious 
charge.  Strange  to  say,  from  their  mere  difference  of 
character,  the  two  men  had  mutually  changed  their  posi- 
tion ;  the  judge  was  in  some  sort  obliged  to  justify  himself 
to  the  prisoner. 

"  But,"  said  the  general,  "  if  his  duty  compelled  him,  do 
not  doubt  that  Levin  de  Knud  —  " 

"I  do  doubt  it,  noble  Governor,"  exclaimed  Schu- 
macker ;  "  do  not  doubt  in  your  turn  that  he  would  have 
rejected,  with  all  the  generous  indignation  of  his  soul,  the 
office  of  spy,  or  of  increasing  the  agony  of  a  wretched  pris- 
oner !  No,  I  know  him  better  than  you ;  he  would  never 
have  accepted  the  duties  of  an  executioner.    Now,  General, 


272  HANS  OF   ICELAND. 

I  am  at  your  service ;  do  what  you  consider  your  duty. 
What  does  your  Excellency  require  of  me  ? " 

And  the  old  minister  fixed  his  haughty  gaze  upon  the 
governor,  all  whose  resolution  was  gone.  His  first  reluc- 
tance had  returned,  and  was  not  to  be  overcome. 

"  He  is  right,"  thought  he ;  "  why  should  I  torture  an 
unfortunate  man  upon  mere  suspicion  ?  Let  some  one 
else  undertake  the  task  ! " 

The  effect  of  these  reflections  was  prompt;  he  walked 
up  to  the  astonished  Schumacker  and  pressed  his  hand. 
Then  he  hurriedly  left  the  room,  saying:  "Count  Schu- 
macker, always  preserve  the  same  esteem  for  Levin  de 
Knud." 


XXV. 

Lion  (roaring).  Oh  — 
Demetrius.  Well  roared,  lion  ! 

Shakesfearb  :  Midsummer  NigMs  Dream, 

THE  traveller  of  the  present  day  who  visits  the  snow- 
clad  mountains  which  surround  Lake  Miosen  like 
a  white  girdle,  will  scarcely  find  a  vestige  of  what 
Norwegians  of  the  seventeenth  century  knew  as  Arbar 
ruin.  No  one  was  ever  able  to  decide  the  architectural 
period  or  the  purpose  for  which  this  ruin,  if  we  may  give 
it  the  name,  was  built.  As  you  left  the  forest  which 
covered  the  southern  shore  of  the  lake,  after  climbing  a 
slope  crowned  with  here  and  there  a  fragment  of  wall  or 
a  bit  of  masonry  once  a  tower,  you  reached  an  arched 
opening  leading  into  the  side  of  the  mountain.  This 
entrance,  now  completely  closed  by  landslips,  led  into  a 

VOL.  IX. —  18 


274  HANS  OF  ICELAND. 

species  of  gallery  cut  in  the  living  rock,  and  piercing  the 
mountain  from  side  to  side. 

This  tunnel,  dimly  lighted  by  conical  air-holes  made  in 
the  arched  roof  at  regular  intervals,  ended  in  an  oval  hall 
in  part  excavated  from  the  rock,  and  terminating  in  a 
Cyclopean  stone  wall.  Around  this  hall,  in  deep  niches, 
were  rude  images  carved  from  granite.  Some  of  these 
mysterious  figures,  which  had  fallen  from  their  pedestals, 
lay  heaped  in  confusion  on  the  ground  with  other  shape- 
less rubbish,  covered  with  grass  and  weeds,  among  which 
crawled  lizards,  spiders,  and  all  the  hideous  vermin  born 
of  damp  earth  and  ruins. 

Daylight  penetrated  to  this  place  only  through  a  door 
opposite  the  mouth  of  the  gallery.  This  door,  viewed  in 
a  certain  light,  was  seen  to  be  of  pointed  construction. 
of  no  especial  date,  and  evidently  the  work  of  the  archi- 
tect's whim. 

This  door  might  as  well  have  been  styled  a  window, 
although  it  was  on  a  level  with  the  ground,  for  it  opened 
upon  a  fearful  precipice ;  and  it  was  impossible  to  imagine 
whither  a  short  flight  of  stairs  which  overhung  the  abyss 
could  possibly  lead. 

The  hall  formed  the  interior  of  a  huge  turret  which 
from  a  distance,  seen  from  the  other  side  of  the  precipice, 
looked  like  any  high  mountain  peak.  It  stood  alone,  and, 
as  has  already  been  said,  no  one  knew  to  what  sort  of  struc- 
ture it  had  belonged.  Above  it,  however,  upon  a  plateau 
inaccessible  even  to  the  boldest  hunter,  was  a  mass  of 
masonr}'  which  might  be  taken,  being  so  remote,  either  for 
a  rounded  rock  or  for  the  remains  of  a  colossal  arch.     This 


HANS  OF  ICELAND.  275 

turret  and  crumbling  arch  were  known  to  the  peasants  as 
Arbar  ruin,  the  origin  of  the  name  being  fully  as  obscure 
as  that  of  the  buildings  themselves. 

On  a  stone  in  the  centre  of  this  oval  hall  sat  a  little 
man  dressed  in  the  skins  of  wild  beasts,  whom  we  have 
already  had  occasion  to  mention  several  times  in  the 
course  of  our  story. 

His  back  was  turned  to  the  light,  or  rather  to  the  faint 
twilight  which  filtered  into  the  gloomy  turret  when  the 
sun  reached  high  noon.  This  light,  the  strongest  natural 
light  which  ever  entered  the  tower,  was  not  sufficient  to 
reveal  the  nature  of  the  object  over  which  the  little  man 
was  stooping.  An  occasional  muffled  groan  was  heard, 
and  it  seemed  to  proceed  from  this  object,  judging  by  the 
feeble  movement  which  it  now  and  then  made.  Some- 
times the  little  man  straightened  himself,  and  raised  to 
his  lips  a  cup,  by  its  form  apparently  a  human  skull,  filled 
with  steaming  liquid  of  some  indistinguishable  hue,  and 
drank  deep  draughts. 

All  at  once  he  started  up. 

"I  hear  steps  in  the  gallery,  I  believe;  can  it  be  the 
chancellor  of  the  two  kingdoms  already  ? " 

These  words  were  followed  by  a  horrible  burst  of  laugh- 
ter ending  in  a  savage  roar,  which  met  with  an  instant 
response  in  a  howl  from  the  gallery. 

"  Oh,  ho ! "  rejoined  the  lord  of  Arbar  ruin ;  "  it  is  not  a 
man.     But  it  is  an  enemy  all  the  same ;  it  is  a  wolf." 

In  fact,  a  huge  wolf  suddenly  emerged  from  the  vaulted 
gallery,  paused  a  moment,  then  advanced  stealthily  toward 
the  man,  crouching  to  the  ground  and  fixing  upon  him 


276  HANS  OF  ICELAND. 

burning  eyes  which  gleamed  through  the  darkness.  The 
man  stood  with  folded  arras,  and  watched  him. 

"  Ah  !  't  is  the  old  gray  wolf, —  the  oldest  wolf  in  Miosen 
woods  !  Good-morning,  wolf ;  your  eyes  glitter  ;  you  are 
hungry,  and  the  smell  of  dead  bodies  attracts  you.  You 
too  shall  soon  attract  other  hungry  wolves.  Welcome, 
wolf  of  Miosen ;  I  have  always  longed  to  make  your  ac- 
quaintance. You  are  so  old  that  they  say  you  cannot  die ; 
they  will  not  say  so  to-morrow." 

The  animal  answered  with  a  frightful  yell,  sprang  back, 
and  then  bounded  upon  the  little  man. 

He  did  not  budge  an  incho  As  quick  as  a  flash,  with 
his  right  arm  he  grasped  the  body  of  the  wolf,  which, 
standing  on  two  legs  before  him,  had  thrown  his  fore- 
paws  upon  his  shoulders ;  with  his  left  hand  he  guarded 
his  face  from  the  gaping  jaws  of  his  enemy,  seizing  it  by 
the  throat  with  such  force  that  the  creature,  compelled  to 
raise  his  head,  could  scarcely  utter  a  sound. 

"  Wolf  of  Miosen,"  said  the  triumphant  man,  "  you  tear 
my  jerkin,  but  your  skin  shall  replace  it." 

As  he  mingled  with  these  words  of  victory  a  few  words 
in  a  strange  jargon,  a  convulsive  movement  made  by  the 
dying  wolf  caused  him  to  stumble  upon  the  stones  which 
were  thickly  strewn  over  the  floor.  The  two  fell  to- 
gether, and  the  roars  of  the  man  were  blended  with  the 
howls  of  the  beast. 

Obliged  in  his  fall  to  relax  his  grasp  of  the  wolfs 
throat,  the  man  felt  the  sharp  teeth  buried  in  his  shoul- 
der, when,  as  they  rolled  over  one  another,  the  two  com- 
batants struck  against  an  enormous  shaggy  white  body 


HANS  OF  ICELAND.  277 

lying  in  the  darkest  corner  of  the  room.  It  was  a  bear, 
who  waked  from  his  heavy  sleep  with  a  growl. 

No  sooner  were  the  drowsy  eyes  of  this  new-comer 
opened  wide  enough  to  see  the  fight,  than  he  rushed 
furiously,  not  upon  the  man,  but  upon  the  wolf,  just 
then  victorious  in  his  turn,  seized  him  violently  by  the 
back,  and  thus  freed  the  human  combatant. 

This  latter,  far  from  showing  any  gratitude  for  so  great 
a  service,  rose,  covered  with  blood,  and  springing  upon  the 
bear,  gave  him  a  vigorous  kick,  such  as  a  master  might 
bestow  on  a  dog  guilty  of  some  misdemeanor. 

"  Friend,  who  called  you  ?     Why  do  you  meddle  ?  " 

These  words  were  interspersed  with  furious  ejaculations 
and  gnashing  of  teeth. 

"  Begone !  "  he  added  with  a  roar. 

The  bear,  who  had  received  at  one  and  the  same  time 
a  kick  from  the  man  and  a  bite  from  the  wolf,  uttered  a 
plaintive  remonstrance ;  then,  hanging  his  great  head,  he 
released  the  famished  beast,  who  hurled  himself  upon  the 
man  with  fresh  fury. 

While  the  struggle  was  renewed,  the  rebuffed  bear  went 
back  to  his  couch,  sat  gravely  down,  and  gazed  indiffer- 
ently at  the  two  raging  adversaries,  preserving  the  utmost 
silence,  and  rubbing  first  one  fore-paw  and  then  the  other 
across  the  tip  of  his  white  nose. 

But  the  small  man,  as  the  leader  of  the  Miosen  wolves 
returned  to  the  charge,  seized  his  bloody  snout;  then, 
by  an  unparalleled  exertion  requiring  both  strength  and 
skill,  he  managed  to  clasp  his  entire  jaw  in  one  hand 
The  wolf  struggled  frantically  with  rage  and  pain ;  foam 


278  HANS  OF  ICELAND. 

dropped  from  his  compressed  lips,  and  his  eyes,  distended 
with  rage,  seemed  starting  from  their  sockets.  Of  the  two 
foes,  the  one  whose  bones  were  shattered  by  sharp  teeth, 
whose  flesh  was  rent  by  cruel  claws,  was  not  the  man  but 
the  wild  beast;  the  one  whose  howl  was  most  savage, 
whose  expression  was  most  fierce,  was  not  the  animal  but 
the  man. 

Finally,  the  latter,  collecting  all  his  strength,  exhausted 
by  the  aged  wolf's  prolonged  resistance,  squeezed  his 
muzzle  in  both  hands  with  such  force  that  blood  gushed 
from  the  creature's  nose  and  mouth ;  his  flaming  eyes 
grew  dim,  and  half  closed  ;  he  tottered,  and  fell  lifeless  at 
his  victor's  feet.  The  feeble  twitching  of  his  tail  and  the 
convulsive  and  occasional  shudder  which  shook  his  entire 
frame,  alone  showed  that  he  was  not  yet  quite  dead. 

All  at  once  a  final  quiver  ran  through  the  expiring 
frame,  and  all  signs  of  life  ceased. 

"  There  you  lie,  dead,  old  wolf,"  said  the  little  man, 
kicking  him  contemptuously.  "  Did  you  think  that  you 
could  live  on  after  you  had  encountered  me  ?  You  will 
hasten  no  more  with  muffled  step  across  the  snow,  follow- 
ing the  scent  and  the  track  of  your  prey ;  you  are  food 
for  wolves  or  vultures  now  yourself ;  you  have  devoured 
many  a  lost  traveller  on  the  shores  of  Miosen  during  your 
long  life  of  murder  and  carnage ;  now  you  yourself  are 
dead,  you  will  eat  no  more  men.     'T  is  a  pity  ! " 

He  took  up  a  sharp  stone,  crouched  beside  the  wolf's 
warm,  palpitating  body,  broke  the  limbs  at  their  joints, 
severed  the  head  from  the  shoulders,  slit  the  skin  from 
head  to  heel,  stripped  it  off,  as  he  might  remove  his  owd 


HANS  OF  ICELAND.  279 

waistcoat,  and  in  the  twinkling  of  an  eye  nothing  was 
left  of  the  much-dreaded  wolf  of  Miosen  but  a  bare  and 
bleeding  carcass.  He  flung  his  trophy  over  his  shoulders, 
bruised  with  bites,  turning  inside  out  the  skin,  still 
reeking  and  stained  with  long  streaks  of  blood. 

"  Needs  must,"  he  muttered,  "  dress  in  the  skins  of 
beasts  ;  that  of  a  man  is  too  thin  to  keep  out  the  cold." 

As  he  thus  talked  to  himself,  more  hideous  than  ever 
beneath  his  loathsome  burden,  the  bear,  tired  no  doubt  of 
inaction,  furtively  approached  the  other  object  lying  in  the 
shadow,  to  which  we  referred  in  the  beginning  of  this 
chapter,  and  a  crunching  of  bones,  mingled  with  faint, 
agonized  moans,  soon  rose  from  this  gloomy  quarter  of 
the  hall.     The  small  aian  turned. 

"  Friend  ! "  cried  he  in  threatening  tones ;  "  ah,  you 
good-for-nothing  Friend !     Here,  come  here  ! " 

And  picking  up  a  huge  stone,  he  hurled  it  at  the  mon- 
ster's head.  The  creature,  stunned  by  the  blow,  reluc- 
tantly tore  himself  from  his  prey,  and  crawled,  licking  his 
bloody  chaps,  to  fall  panting  at  the  little  man's  feet,  lifting 
his  huge  head  and  wriggling,  as  if  to  ask  pardon  for  his 
rash  act. 

Then  ensued  between  the  two  monsters  —  fo"  we  may 
well  apply  that  name  to  the  dweller  in  Arbar  ruin  —  an 
exchange  of  significant  growls.  Those  of  the  man  ex- 
pressed anger  and  authority ;  those  of  the  bear,  entreaty 
and  submission. 

"  There,"  said  the  man  at  last,  pointing  with  his  crooked 
finger  to  the  flayed  body  of  the  wolf,  "  there  is  your  vic- 
tim ;  leave  mine  to  me." 


280  HANS  OF  ICELAND. 

The  bear,  after  smelling  at  the  wolfs  carcass,  shook  his 
head  discontentedly,  and  turned  his  eye  toward  the  man 
who  seemed  to  be  his  master. 

"  I  understand,"  said  the  latter ;  "  that  is  too  dead  for 
you,  while  there  is  still  life  in  the  other.  You  are  refined 
in  your  pleasures.  Friend,  —  quite  as  much  so  as  a  man  ; 
you  like  to  have  your  food  retain  its  life  until  the  instant 
when  you  tear  it  limb  from  limb ;  you  love  to  feel  the 
flesh  expire  beneath  your  teeth ;  you  enjoy  nothing  unless 
it  suffers.  We  are  alike ;  for  I  am  not  a  man,  Friend ;  I 
am  superior  to  that  wretched  race ;  I  am  a  wild  beast  like 
you.  How  I  wish  that  you  could  speak  to  me,  comrade 
Friend,  to  tell  me  whether  my  joy  equals  that  which 
thrills  your  bearish  soul  when  you  devour  a  man's  heart. 
But  no ;  I  should  be  loath  to  hear  you  speak,  lest  your 
voice  should  recall  to  me  the  human  voice.  Yes,  growl  at 
toy  feet  with  that  growl  which  makes  the  stray  goatherd 
tremble  among  the  mountains ;  it  pleases  me  as  the  voice 
of  a  friend,  because  it  proclaims  you  his  enemy.  Look  up, 
Friend,  look  up  at  me ;  lick  my  hands  with  that  tongue 
which  has  drunk  so  often  of  human  blood.  Your  teeth 
are  white  like  mine :  it  is  no  fault  of  ours  if  they  be 
not  red  as  a  new-made  wound ;  but  blood  washes  away 
blood.  More  than  once  from  the  depths  of  some  dark 
cave  I  have  seen  the  maidens  of  Kiolen  or  Oelmce  bathe 
their  bare  feet  in  some  mountain  torrent,  singing  the  while 
in  sweet  tones ;  but  I  prefer  your  hairy  snout  and  your 
hoarse  cries  to  those  melodious  voices  and  satin-smooth 
faces ;  for  they  terrify  mankind." 

As  he  said  this,  he  sat  down  and  yielded  his  hand  to 


HANS  OF  ICELAND.  281 

the  caresses  of  the  monster,  who,  rolling  on  his  back  at  his 
master's  feet,  lavished  all  sorts  of  endearments  upon  him, 
like  a  spaniel  displaying  his  pretty  tricks  before  the  sofa 
of  his  mistress. 

Stranger  yet  was  the  intelligent  attention  with  which  he 
Beemed  to  follow  his  master's  words.  The  singular  mono- 
syllables with  which  the  latter  interspersed  them  seemed 
particularly  intelligible  to  his  understanding ;  and  he 
showed  his  comprehension  by  rearing  his  head  sud- 
denly, or  by  a  vague  rumbling  noise  in  the  back  of  his 
throat. 

"  Men  say  that  I  shun  them,"  resumed  the  little  man ; 
"  but  it  is  they  that  shun  me ;  they  do  through  fear  what 
I  should  do  through  hate.  Still,  you  know.  Friend,  that  I 
am  always  glad  to  come  across  a  man  when  I  am  hungry 
or  thirsty." 

All  at  once  he  saw  a  red  glow  start  into  life  in  the 
depths  of  the  gallery,  growing  brighter  by  degrees  and 
faintly  tinting  the  damp  old  walls. 

"  Here  comes  one  now.  Talk  of  the  Devil  and  you  see 
his  horns.  Hullo,  Friend  1"  he  added,  turning  to  the 
bear ;  "  hullo !  get  up  ! " 

The  animal  instantly  rose. 

"Come,  I  must  reward  your  obedience  by  gratifying 
your  appetite." 

With  these  words,  the  man  stooped  toward  the  object 
lying  on  the  ground. 

The  cracking  of  bones  broken  by  a  hatchet  was  heard  j 
but  no  sigh  or  groan  was  now  blended  with  it. 

"  It  seems,"  muttered  the  small  man,  "  that  there  are 


282  HANS  OF  ICELAND. 

but  two  of  us  left  alive  in  Arbar  hall.  There,  good  Friend, 
finish  the  feast  which  you  began." 

He  flung  toward  the  aforementioned  outer  door  what 
he  had  detached  from  the  object  stretched  at  his  feet. 
The  bear  threw  himself  upon  his  prey  so  rapidly  that  the 
swiftest  eye  could  not  have  been  sure  that  the  fragment 
was  indeed  a  human  arm,  clad  in  a  bit  of  green  stuff  of 
the  same  shade  as  the  uniform  worn  by  the  Munkholm 
musketeers. 

"  Some  one  is  coming  "  said  the  little  man,  keeping  his 
eye  on  the  light,  which  was  steadily  advancing.  "  Com- 
rade Friend,  leave  me  alone  for  a  moment.  Ho  there! 
Away  with  you  ! " 

The  obedient  beast  rushed  to  the  door,  backed  down  the 
steps  outside,  and  disappeared,  bearing  off  his  disgusting 
booty  with  a  satisfied  howl. 

At  the  same  instant  a  tall  man  appeared  at  the  mouth 
of  the  tunnel,  whose  sinuous  depths  still  reflected  a  dim 
light.  He  was  wrapped  in  a  long  brown  cloak,  and  car- 
ried a  dark-lantern,  which  he  turned  full  on  the  small 
man's  face. 

The  latter,  still  seated  on  his  stone  with  folded  arms, 
exclaimed :  "  III  befall  you,  you  who  come  hither  guided 
by  an  idea,  and  not  by  instinct ! " 

But  the  stranger,  making  no  reply,  seemed  studying  him 
carefully. 

"  Look  at  me,"  he  continued,  raising  his  head  ;  "  an  hour 
hence  you  may  have  no  voice  left  with  which  to  boast  that 
you  have  seen  me." 

The   new-comer,  moving  his  light  up  and   down   the 


HANS  OF  ICELAND.  283 

little  man's  person,  seemed  even  more  surprised  than 
frightened. 

"  Well,  what  astonishes  you  so  much  ? "  rejoined  the 
little  man,  with  a  laugh  like  the  breaking  of  bones.  "I 
have  legs  and  arms  like  your  own ;  only  my  limbs  will 
not  like  yours  serve  to  feed  wildcats  and  crows  I " 

The  stranger  at  length  replied,  in  a  low  but  confident 
voice,  as  if  he  only  feared  being  heard  from  without: 
"  Hear  me  ;  I  come,  not  as  an  enemy,  but  as  a  friend." 

The  other  interrupted,  "  Then  why  did  you  not  strip  off 
your  human  form  ? " 

"  It  is  my  purpose  to  do  you  a  service,  if  you  be  he 
whom  I  seek." 

"You  mean,  to  ask  a  service.  Man,  you  waste  your 
breath.  I  can  do  no  service  to  any  save  those  who  are 
weary  of  life." 

"  By  your  words,"  replied  the  stranger,  "  I  am  sure  that 
you  are  the  man  I  want ;  but  your  stature  —  Hans  of 
Iceland  is  a  giant.     You  cannot  be  he." 

"  You  are  the  first  who  ever  doubted  it  to  my  face." 

**  What !  can  it  be  ? "  And  the  stranger  approached  the 
little  man.  "But  I  always  heard  that  Hans  of  Iceland 
was  of  colossal  height." 

"  Add  my  renown  to  my  height,  and  you  will  see  that  I 
am  taller  than  Mount  Hecla." 

"  Indeed !  Tell  me,  I  pray,  are  you  really  Hans,  a 
native  of  Klipstadur  in  Iceland  ? " 

"  It  is  not  in  words  that  I  should  answer  that  question," 
said  the  little  man,  rising ;  and  the  look  which  he  cast  at 
the  rash  stranger  made  him  start  back  several  paces. 


284  HANS  OF  ICELAiro. 

"  Confine  yourself,  I  beg,  to  answering  it  by  that  glance," 
he  replied  in  a  voice  of  entreaty,  casting  a  look  toward  the 
exit,  which  showed  his  regret  that  he  had  ever  entered ; 
"  I  came  here  in  your  interests  alone." 

Upon  entering  the  hall,  the  new-comer,  having  but  a 
glimpse  of  the  person  whom  he  accosted,  had  retained  his 
self-possession  ;  but  when  the  master  of  Arbar  rose,  with 
his  tigerish  visage,  his  thick-set  limbs,  his  bloody  shoulders, 
but  half  concealed  by  a  skin  still  green,  his  huge  hands 
armed  with  claws,  and  his  fiery  eyes,  the  bold  stranger 
shuddered,  like  an  ignorant  traveller  who  thinks  he  is 
handling  an  eel  and  feels  the  sting  of  a  viper. 

"  My  interests  ?  "  repeated  the  monster.  "  Have  you 
come  to  tell  me  of  some  spring  which  I  may  poison,  some 
village  I  may  burn,  or  some  Munkholm  musketeer  I  may 
slaughter  ? " 

"  Perhaps.  Listen :  The  miners  of  Norway  are  in  a  state 
of  revolt.  You  know  what  disaster  follows  in  the  train  of 
revolt." 

"  Yes,  —  murder,  rape,  sacrilege,  fire,  and  pillage." 

"  All  these  I  offer  you." 

The  little  man  laughed. 

"  I  should  not  wait  for  you  to  offer  them." 

The  brutal  sneer  accompanying  these  words  made  tho 
stranger  again  shudder.     He  went  on,  however :  — 

"  In  the  name  of  the  miners,  I  offer  you  the  command 
of  the  insurrection." 

The  small  man  was  silent  for  an  instant.  All  at  once 
his  dark  countenance  assumed  an  expression  of  infernal 
malice. 


HANS  OF  ICELAND.  285 

"  Does  the  offer  really  come  from  them  ? "  said  he. 

This  question  seemed  to  embarrass  the  new-comer ;  but 
as  he  was  sure  that  he  was  unknown  to  his  terrible  inter- 
locutor, he  readily  recovered  himself. 

"  Why  have  the  miners  rebelled  ? " 

"  To  throw  off  the  burden  of  the  royal  protectorate." 

"  Only  for  that  ?  "  replied  the  other  in  the  same  mock- 
ing tone. 

"  They  also  wish  to  free  the  prisoner  of  Munkholm." 

"  Is  this  the  sole  purpose  of  the  movement  ? "  repeated 
the  small  man  in  a  voice  which  confused  the  stranger. 

"  I  know  of  no  other,"  he  stammered. 

"  Oh,  you  know  of  no  other  ! " 

These  words  were  pronounced  in  the  same  sarcastic 
tone.  The  stranger,  to  hide  the  embarrassment  which 
they  caused  him,  hastily  drew  from  beneath  his  cloak  a 
heavy  purse  which  he  flung  at  the  monster's  feet. 

"Here  is  your  pay  as  commander-in-chief." 

The  small  man  spurned  the  purse  with  his  foot. 

"  I  will  not  have  it.  Do  you  imagine  that  if  I  wanted 
your  gold  or  your  blood  I  should  wait  for  your  permis- 
sion to  gratify  my  desire  ? " 

The  stranger  made  a  gesture  of  surprise,  almost  of  terror. 

"  It  is  a  present  from  the  royal  miners." 

"  I  will  not  have  it,  I  tell  you.  Gold  is  useless  to  me 
Men  will  sell  their  soul,  but  they  do  not  sell  their  life. 
That  must  be  taken  by  force." 

"  Then  I  may  tell  the  miners  that  the  terrible  Hans  of 
Iceland  accepts  their  leadership,  but  not  their  gold  ? " 

"  I  do  not  accept  it," 


286  HANS  or  ICELAND. 

These  words,  uttered  in  curt  tones,  seemed  to  strike 
the  pretended  envoy  from  the  rebellious  miners  very 
unpleasantly. 

"What?"  he  asked. 

"  No ! "  repeated  the  other. 

"You  refuse  to  take  part  in  an  expedition  which 
presents  so  many  advantages  ? " 

"  I  am  quite  able  to  pillage  farms,  lay  waste  villages, 
and  massacre  peasants  or  soldiers,  single-handed." 

"  But  consider  that  by  accepting  the  offer  of  the  miners 
you  are  assured  of  a  free  pardon." 

"  Does  this  offer  also  come  from  the  miners  ? "  asked  the 
other,  with  a  laugh. 

"I  will  not  disguise  from  you  the  fact,"  replied  the 
stranger,  with  an  air  of  mystery,  "that  it  comes  from 
an  important  personage  who  is  deeply  interested  in  the 
insurrection." 

"  And  is  this  important  personage  so  sure  that  he  will 
himself  escape  hanging  ?  " 

"  If  you  knew  who  he  is,  you  would  not  shake  your 
head  so  significantly." 

"  Indeed  !    Well,  who  is  he  ? " 

"  I  may  not  tell  you." 

The  small  man  stepped  forward  and  clapped  the  stranger 
on  the  shoulder,  still  with  the  same  sardonic  sneer. 

"Shall  I  tell  2/OM.?" 

The  man  wrapped  in  the  cloak  gave  a  start ;  it  was  a 
start  of  both  fright  and  wounded  pride.  He  was  pre- 
pared for  neither  the  monster's  abrupt  proposal,  nor  for 
his  savage  familiarity. 


HANS  OF  ICKLAND.  287 

"  I  am  only  laughing  at  you,"  added  the  brigand.  "  You 
little  guess  that  I  know  all.  This  important  personage  is 
the  Lord  High  Chancellor  of  Norway  and  Denmark ;  and 
you  yourself  are  the  Lord  High  Chancellor  of  Norway 
and  Denmark." 

It  was  indeed  he.  On  reaching  Arbar  ruin,  toward 
which  we  left  him  journeying  with  Musdoemon,  he  had 
been  unwilling  to  intrust  to  any  one  else  the  task  of 
securing  the  brigand,  by  whom  he  was  far  from  supposing 
himself  known  and  expected.  Never,  even  after  years 
had  elapsed,  did  Count  d'Ahlefeld,  with  all  his  power  and 
all  his  diplomacy,  discover  how  Hans  of  Iceland  acquired 
his  information.  Was  it  through  Musdoemon's  treachery  ? 
True,  it  was  Musdcemon  who  suggested  to  the  noble 
count  that  it  would  be  well  to  see  the  brigand  in  person ; 
but  what  profit  could  he  derive  from  his  perfidy  ?  Had 
the  bandit  captured  upon  some  one  of  his  numerous  vic- 
tims, papers  relating  to  the  chancellor's  schemes  ?  But 
Frederic  d'Ahlefeld  was,  with  the  sole  exception  of  Mus- 
dcemon, the  only  living  being  acquainted  with  his  father's 
plans,  and  frivolous  as  he  was,  he  was  not  quite  so  sense- 
iess  as  to  expose  such  a  secret.  Moreover,  he  was  in  gar- 
rison at  Munkholm,  at  least  so  the  chancellor  supposed. 
Those  who  read  the  close  of  this  scene,  without  being  any 
better  able  to  solve  the  problem  than  was  Count  d'Ahle- 
feld, will  see  how  much  truth  there  was  in  this  latter 
hypothesis. 

One  of  Count  d'Ahlefeld's  most  marked  characteristics 
was  his  great  presence  of  mind.  When  he  heard  himself 
so  abruptly  named,  he  could  not  repress  an  exclamation 


288  HANS  OF  ICELAND. 

of  surprise ;  but  in  the  twinkling  of  an  eye,  his  pale,  proud 
features  lost  their  expression  of  fear  and  astonishment, 
and  recovered  their  usual  calm  composure. 

"  Well,  yes,"  said  he,  "  I  will  be  frank  with  you ;  I  am 
indeed  the  chancellor.  But  I  hope  you  will  be  equally 
frank  with  me." 

A  burst  of  laughter  interrupted  him. 

"  Have  I  waited  to  be  urged  to  tell  you  my  name,  or  to 
tell  you  your  own  ? " 

"Tell  me  with  the  same  sincerity  how  you  found 
me  out?" 

"  Have  you  never  heard  that  Hans  of  Iceland  can  see 
through  mountains  ? " 

The  count  tried  to  insist. 

"  Consider  me  as  a  friend." 

"Your  hand,  Count  d'Ahlefeld,"  said  the  little  man, 
with  brutal  familiarity.  Then  he  stared  the  minister  in 
the  face,  exclaiming :  "  Could  our  two  souls  escape  from 
our  bodies  at  this  moment,  I  fancy  that  Satan  would 
hesitate  to  decide  which  of  the  two  belonged  to  the 
monster." 

The  haughty  noble  bit  his  lip ;  but  between  his  fear  of 
the  robber  and  his  desire  to  secure  him  as  his  tool,  he 
managed  to  disguise  his  resentment. 

"Do  not  imperil  your  own  interests;  accept  the  com- 
mand of  the  rebellion,  and  trust  to  my  gratitude." 

"  Chancellor  of  Norway,  you  count  on  the  success  of 
your  schemes,  like  an  old  woman  who  dreams  of  the  gown 
which  she  will  spin  from  stolen  hemp,  while  the  cat's 
claws  tangle  her  spindle." 


HANS  OF  ICELAND.  289 

"  Reflect  once  more,  before  you  reject  my  offers.** 

"  Once  more,  I,  the  brigand,  say  to  you.  Lord  Chancellor 
of  both  kingdoms,  No ! " 

"  I  expected  a  different  answer,  after  the  eminent  ser- 
vice which  you  have  already  rendered  me." 

**  What  service  ?  "  asked  the  robber. 

"  Was  it  not  you  who  murdered  Captain  Dispolsen  ? " 
replied  the  chancellor. 

"  That  may  be.  Count  d'Ahlefeld ;  I  do  not  know  him. 
Who  is  he?" 

"  What !  did  not  the  iron  casket  which  he  had  in  charge 
fall  to  your  share  ? " 

This  question  seemed  to  sharpen  the  robber's  memory. 

" Stay ! "  said  he ;  "I  do  remember  that  man  and  his 
iron  casket.     It  was  on  Urchtal  Sands." 

"  At  least,"  rejoined  the  chancellor,  "  if  you  could  restore 
that  casket  to  me,  my  gratitude  would  be  unbounded. 
Tell  me  what  has  become  of  that  casket,  for  I  am  sure  it 
is  in  your  possession." 

The  noble  minister  laid  such  stress  upon  this  request 
that  the  brigand  was  struck  by  it. 

"  So,  then,  that  iron  casket  is  of  the  utmost  importance 
to  your  Grace,  my  Lord  Chancellor  ? " 

"  Yes." 

"  What  shall  my  reward  be  if  I  tell  you  where  it  is  ?  ** 

"  Anything  that  you  may  desire,  my  dear  Hans." 

"  Well,  I  will  not  tell  you." 

"  Pooh !  you  are  joking !  Think  what  a  service  you 
can  do  me." 

"That  is  exactly  what  I  am  thinking.* 

TOL.  IX. —  W 


290  HANS  OF  IVELAISD. 

"I  will  insure  you  a  vast  fortune;  I  will  ask  your 
pardon  from  the  king." 

"You  had  better  beg  your  own  from  me,"  said  the 
bandit.  "  Look  you,  Lord  Chancellor  of  Norway  and 
Denmark,  the  tiger  does  not  devour  the  hyena.  I  will 
permit  you  to  leave  my  presence  with  your  life,  because 
you  are  a  scoundrel,  and  every  instant  that  you  live,  every 
thought  of  your  heart,  causes  fresh  misery  for  mankind 
and  fresh  crime  for  yourself  But  return  not,  or  I  may 
teach  you  that  my  hatred  spares  no  one,  not  even  a 
villain.  As  for  your  captain,  do  not  flatter  yourself  that  it 
was  on  your  account  I  slaughtered  him ;  it  was  his  uni- 
form which  doomed  him,  as  it  did  this  other  wretch,  whom 
I  did  not  murder  to  gratify  you  either,  I  assure  you." 

With  these  words,  he  seized  the  noble  count  by  the  arm 
and  dragged  him  toward  the  body  lying  in  the  shadow. 
As  he  finished  his  protestations,  the  light  from  the  lantern 
fell  upon  this  object.  It  was  a  mutilated  corpse,  and  was 
indeed  dressed  in  the  uniform  of  an  officer  of  the  Munk- 
holm  Musketeers.  The  chancellor  approached  it  with  a 
sense  of  horror.  All  at  once  his  eye  rested  on  the  pallid, 
blood-stained  face  of  the  dead.  The  livid,  half-parted  lips, 
the  bristling  hair,  the  discolored  cheeks,  and  lustreless 
eyes  could  not  disguise  that  countenance  from  him.  He 
uttered  a  fearful  shriek :  "  My  God !    Frederic !    My  son ! " 

Doubt  not  that  hearts  seemingly  the  most  hardened  still 
conceal  in  their  innermost  recesses  some  trace  of  aff'ection 
unknown  even  to  themselves,  apparently  hidden  by  vice 
and  passion,  like  a  mysterious  witness  and  a  future  avenger. 
It  may  be  said   to  exist,  that  it   may  some  day  make 


HANS  OF   ICELAND.  291 

crime  acquainted  with  grief.  It  silently  bides  its  time. 
The  wicked  man  bears  it  in  his  bosom  and  is  unconscious 
of  it,  because  no  ordinary  affection  is  sufficient  to  pierce 
the  thick  crust  of  selfishness  and  iniquity  which  covers  it ; 
but  let  one  of  the  rare  and  genuine  sorrows  of  life  appear 
unawares,  and  it  plunges  a  sharp-edged  sword  into  the 
dark  regions  of  that  soul  and  probes  its  lowest  depths. 
Then  the  unknown  sentiment  of  love  is  revealed  to  the 
wretched  criminal,  all  the  more  violent  for  its  long  re- 
pression, all  the  more  painful  from  his  lack  of  sensibility, 
because  the  sting  of  misfortune  was  forced  to  stab  the 
heart  more  deeply  in  order  to  reach  it.  Nature  wakes  and 
casts  aside  her  chains ;  she  delivers  the  miscreant  to 
unwonted  despair,  to  unheard-of  torments ;  he  feels,  com- 
pressed into  a  single  instant,  all  the  sufferings  which  he 
has  defied  for  years.  The  most  various  pangs  rend  him 
simultaneously.  His  heart,  burdened  by  dull  amazement, 
revolts  to  find  itself  a  prey  to  convulsive  agony.  He 
seems  to  experience  the  pains  of  hell  while  still  in  this 
life,  and  something  beyond  despair  is  made  clear  to 
him. 

Count  d'Ahlefeld  loved  his  sou  without  knowing  it. 
We  say  his  son,  because,  being  unaware  of  his  wife's 
guilt,  as  such  he  regarded  Frederic,  the  direct  heir  to  his 
name.  Supposing  him  still  at  Munkholm,  he  was  far  from 
prepared  to  meet  him  in  Arbar  tower,  and  to  find  him 
dead !  But  there  he  lay,  bruised  and  bleeding ;  it  was  he, 
impossible  to  doubt  it.  His  emotions  may  be  imagined 
when  a  realizing  sense  C'f  his  love  for  his  son  unexpectedly 
pierced  his  soul,  together  with  the  assy  ranee  that  he  was 


292  HANS  OF  ICELAND. 

lost  to  him  forever.  All  the  sensations  so  inadequately 
described  in  these  pages  burst  upon  his  heart  at  once  like 
so  many  claps  of  thunder.  Stunned,  as  it  were,  by  sur- 
prise, terror,  and  despair,  he  cast  himself  upon  the  ground, 
and  wrung  his  hands,  repeating  in  woful  accents :  "  My 
son !  my  son ! " 

The  brigand  laughed.  It  was  horrible  to  hear  such 
laughter  mingled  with  the  groans  of  a  father  looking  upon 
the  dead  body  of  his  son. 

"By  my  ancestor  Ingulf!  you  may  call.  Count  d'Alile- 
feld,  but  you  cannot  wake  him." 

All  at  once  his  cruel  face  darkened,  and  he  said  in  a 
melancholy  voice :  "  Weep  for  your  son,  if  you  will ;  I 
avenge  mine." 

The  sound  of  footsteps  hurrying  along  the  gallery  inter- 
rupted the  words  upon  his  lips ;  and  as  he  turned  in  sur- 
prise, four  tall  men,  with  drawn  swords,  rushed  into  the 
room ;  a  fifth,  short  and  stout,  followed,  bearing  a  torch  in 
one  hand  and  a  sword  in  the  other.  He  was  wrapped  in 
a  brown  cloak,  like  that  worn  by  the  chancellor. 

"My  lord,"  he  exclaimed,  "we  heard  your  voice,  and 
hastened  to  your  assistance." 

The  reader  has  doubtless  recognized  Musdoemon  and 
the  four  armed  retainers  who  formed  the  count's  escort. 

As  the  torchlight  filled  the  room  with  its  ruddy  glow, 
the  five  new-comers  paused  in  horror-stricken  dismay; 
and  it  was  indeed  an  awful  sight.  On  the  one  hand,  the 
bloody  remains  of  the  wolf,  the  disfigured  body  of  the 
young  officer ;  on  the  other,  the  father,  with  his  wild  eyes 
and  frantic  shrieks;  and  beside  him  the  fearful  monster, 


HANS  OF  ICELAND.  293 

turning  on  his  assailants  a  hideous  front,  indicative  of 
dauntless  surprise. 

At  the  sight  of  this  unlooked-for  reinforcement  the 
idea  of  vengeance  took  possession  of  the  count,  and  roused 
him  from  his  despair. 

"  Death  to  that  brigand  I "  he  cried,  drawing  his  sword ; 
"  he  has  murdered  my  son !     Kill  him !  kill  him  ! " 

"  Has  he  murdered  Mr.  Frederic  ? "  said  Musdoemon ; 
and  the  torch  in  his  hand  did  not  reveal  the  slightest 
change  in  his  countenance. 

"  KUl  him !  kill  him ! "  repeated  the  frantic  count. 

And  the  whole  six  rushed  upon  the  robber.  He,  sur- 
prised by  this  sudden  attack,  retreated  toward  the  opening 
which  overhung  the  precipice,  with  a  fierce  roar,  expressive 
rather  of  rage  than  fear. 

Six  swords  were  directed  against  him,  and  his  eyes 
flamed  forth  greater  fury,  while  his  features  wore  a  more 
menacing  expression  than  those  of  any  of  his  aggressors. 
He  had  grasped  his  stone  axe,  and,  forced  by  the  number 
of  his  assailants  to  confine  himself  to  defensive  action, 
whirled  it  round  and  round  in  his  hand  so  rapidly  that 
the  circle  described,  covered  him  like  a  shield.  A  myr- 
iad sparks  flashed  from  the  point  of  his  assailants'  swords 
as  they  clashed  against  the  edge  of  the  hatchet;  but 
not  a  single  blade  touched  him.  And  yet,  exhausted  by 
his  recent  battle  with  the  wolf,  he  lost  ground  impercep* 
tibly,  and  soon  found  himself  driven  close  against  the  door 
opening  upon  the  abyss. 

"Courage,  friends!"  shouted  the  count;  "let  us  hurl 
the  monster  over  this  precipice." 


294  HANS  OF  ICELAND. 

"  Before  I  fall,  tlie  stars  themselves  shall  fall,"  replied 
the  brigand. 

But  the  aggressors  redoubled  their  ardor  and  their 
assurance  as  they  saw  that  the  small  man  was  compelled 
to  descend  one  step  of  the  flight  which  overhung  the 
abyss. 

"  Good  !  one  effort  more !  "  cried  the  lord  chancellor  j 
"he  needs  must  fall ;  push  your  advantage  !  Wretch,  you 
have  committed  your  last  crime.     Courage,  men ! " 

While  with  his  right  hand  he  continued  his  fearful 
evolutions  with  the  axe,  the  brigand,  without  deigning  a 
reply,  with  his  left  hand  grasped  a  horn  which  hung  at 
his  belt,  and  raising  it  to  his  lips,  again  and  again  blew  a 
long,  hoarse  blast,  which  was  answered  suddenly  by  a  roar 
from  the  gulf  beneath. 

A  few  instants  later,  as  the  count  and  his  followers,  still 
pressing  the  little  man  hard,  rejoiced  that  they  had  driven 
him  down  a  second  step,  the  huge  head  of  a  white  bear 
appeared  at  the  broken  end  of  the  staircase.  Struck  dumb 
with  amazement  and  fright,  they  shrank  back.  The  bear 
climbed  the  stairs  with  a  lumbering  gait,  showing  his 
bloody  jaws  and  sharp  teeth  as  he  did  so. 

"  Thanks,  good  Friend  ! "  cried  the  brigand.  And  taking 
advantage  of  his  enemy's  surprise,  he  sprang  upon  the 
back  of  his  bear,  who  slowly  descended  the  stairs  back- 
wards, still  keeping  his  threatening  front  turned  upon  his 
master's  foes. 

Soon,  recovering  from  their  first  astonishment,  they 
beheld  the  bear,  can'ying  the  brigand  beyond  their  reach, 
descend  into  the  abyss,  probably  in  the  same  way  that  he 


HANS  OF  ICELAND.  295 

ascended,  by  clinging  to  the  trunks  of  trees  and  to  pro- 
jecting rocks.  They  tried  to  roll  great  bowlders  down 
upon  him ;  but  before  they  could  detach  a  single  one  of 
those  ancient  granite  fragments  which  had  slumbered 
there  so  long,  the  brigand  "^p-^i  his  strange  steed  had 
vanished  in  a  cave. 


XXVI. 

No,  no,  laugh  no  more.  Look  you,  that  which  I  thought  so  humorous 
has  its  serious  side  as  well,  a  very  serious  side,  like  everything  in  this 
world  !  Believe  me,  that  word,  chance,  is  blasphemy;  nothing  beneath  the 
sun  is  the  work  of  chance  ;  and  do  you  not  see  herein  the  purpose  marked 
out  by  Providence  ?  —  Lessing  :  Emilia  Galotti. 

YES,  a  deep  design  often  lies  at  the  root  of  what  men 
call  chance.  There  seems  to  be  a  mysterious  hand 
which  marks  the  cause  and  purpose  of  events.  We  in- 
veigh; against  fickle  fortune,  against  the  strange  accidents 
of  our  lot,  and  lo !  chaos  is  made  clear  by  a  fearful  flash 
of  lightning  or  a  marvellous  beam  of  light,  and  human 
wisdom  is  humbled  by  the  great  lessons  of  fate. 

If,  for  instance,  when  Frederic  d'Ahlefeld  displayed  his 
magnificent  attire,  his  foolish  complacency,  and  his  pre- 
sumptuous pride,  in  some  sumptuous  apartment,  to  the 
ladies  of  Copenhagen;  if  some  man,  endowed  with  the* 
gift  of  second  sight,  had  troubled  his  frivolous  thoughts/ 
by  gloomy  revelations ;  if  he  had  told  him  that  one  day 
the  brilliant  uniform  of  which  he  boasted  should  cause 
his  death ;  that  a  monster  in  human  shape  should  drink 
his  blood  as  greedily  as  he,  careless  epicure  that  he  was, 
drank  the  wines  of  France  and  Bohemia ;  that  the  locks 
upon  which  he  could  not  lavish  too  many  essences  and 
perfumes  should  sweep  the  dust  of  a  cave  haunted  by  wild 


HANS  OF  ICELAND.  297 

beasts ;  that  the  arm  which  he  so  gracefully  offered  to  the 
fair  ladies  of  Charlottenburg  should  be  flung  to  a  bear  like 
a  half-gnawed  chicken-bone,  —  how  would  Frederic  have 
answered  these  dismal  prophecies  ?  With  a  laugh  and  a 
pirouette ;  and,  more  frightful  still,  most  sensible  men 
would  have  applauded  his  reckless  conduct. 

Let  us  consider  his  destiny  more  closely.  Is  it  not 
strange  to  find  that  the  crime  of  Count  and  Countess 
d'Ahlefeld  met  with  such  fitting  punishment  ?  They  wove 
an  infamous  plot  against  the  daughter  of  a  prisoner ;  this 
unfortunate  girl  by  a  mere  chance  found  a  protector,  who 
saw  fit  to  remove  their  son,  charged  by  them  to  carry 
out  their  abominable  scheme.  This  son,  their  only  hope, 
was  sent  far  from  the  scene  of  his  purposed  villany ;  and 
hardly  had  he  reached  his  destination,  when  another 
avenging  chance  caused  his  death.  Thus  in  their  attempt 
to  bring  dishonor  upon  an  innocent  yet  detested  young 
girl,  they  plunged  their  own  guilty  yet  adored  son  into 
the  oblivion  of  the  grave.  The  wretched  pair  were  made 
miserable  by  their  own  hands. 


xxvn. 

Ah,  here  comes  our  lovely  countess  !     Forgive  me,  Madam,  if  I  may 
not  have  the  honor  of  a  visit  from  you  to-day.     I  am  busy.     Another  time, 

dear  Countess,  another  time  ;  but  to-day  I  will  not  detain  you  longer. 

The  Prince  and  Orsina. 


^T^ILE  day  after  his  visit  to  Munkholm,  the  governor 
-*-  of  Throndhjem  ordered  his  travelling  carriage  to 
be  made  ready  very  early  in  the  morning,  hoping  to  start 
off  before  Countess  d'Ahlefeld  was  awake ;  but  we  have 
already  observed  that  her  slumbers  were  light. 

The  general  had  just  signed  his  final  instructions  to  the 
bishop,  into  whose  hands  the  government  was  to  be  com- 
mitted during  his  absence.  He  rose,  put  on  his  fur-lined 
coat,  and  was  about  to  leave  the  room,  when  the  usher 
announced  the  chancellor's  wife. 

This  piece  of  ill  luck  confused  the  old  soldier,  who 
could  laugh  at  the  fiery  rain  of  a  hundred  guns,  but  not 
at  the  artifices  of  a  woman.  However,  he  took  leave  of 
the  wicked  creature  with  a  tolerably  good  grace,  and  dis- 
guised his  annoyance  until  she  whispered  in  his  ear  with 
that  crafty  look  which  would  fain  seem  confidential, 
"  Well,  noble  General,  what  did  he  say  ? " 

"  Who, —  Poel  ?     He  said  that  the  carriage  was  ready.** 
"  I  mean  the  prisoner  of  Munkholm,  General" 
"Ohl" 


HANS  OF  ICELAND.  299 

**  Did  he  answer  your  questions  satisfactorily  ? " 

"  Why  —  Yes,  to  be  sure,  Countess,"  said  the  much 
embarrassed  governor. 

"  Did  you  find  proofs  that  he  was  concerned  in  the  con- 
spiracy among  the  miners  ? " 

The  general  involuntarily  exclaimed,  "Noble  lady,  ha 
is  innocent." 

He  stopped  short,  for  he  knew  that  he  had  uttered  the 
conviction  of  his  heart,  not  of  his  head. 

"  He  is  innocent ! "  repeated  the  countess,  with  a  look  of 
consternation  and  incredulity ;  for  she  trembled  lest  Schu- 
macker  had  really  proved  to  the  governor  the  innocence 
which  it  was  so  much  to  the  chancellor's  interest  to  deny. 

The  governor  had  had  time  to  reflect ;  he  answered  the 
persistent  gentlewoman  in  a  tone  which  quieted  her  fears, 
for  it  revealed  his  doubt  and  "anxiety. 

"  Innocent  —     Yes,  if  you  choose  —  " 

"  If  I  choose,  General ! "  And  the  wicked  woman  laughed 
aloud. 

Her  laughter  offended  the  governor,  who  said,  "By  your 
leave.  Countess,  1  will  report  my  interview  with  the  ex- 
chancellor  to  the  viceroy."  Then  he  bowed  low,  and  went 
down  to  the  courtyard,  where  his  carriage  awaited  him. 

"  Yes,"  said  Countess  d' Ahlefeld,  as  she  returned  to  her 
rooms ;  "  go,  my  knight-errant,  for  your  absence  rids  us  of 
.the  protector  of  our  enemies.  Go ;  for  your  departure  is 
the  signal  for  my  Frederic's  return.  I  wonder  how  you 
dared  to  send  the  handsomest  young  man  in  Copenhagen 
to  those  horrid  mountains!  Luckily,  it  will  be  easy 
enough  now  for  me  to  have  him  recalled.** 


300  HANS  OF  ICELAND. 

At  this  thought  she  turned  to  her  favorite  attendant 

"  Lisbeth,  my  dear,  send  to  Bergen  for  two  dozen  of 
those  little  combs  which  our  elegant  young  men  are  wear- 
ing in  their  hair,  inquire  for  the  famous  Scud^ry's  last 
novel,  and  see  that  my  dear  Frederic's  monkey  is  washed 
in  rose-water  every  morning,  without  fail" 

**  What !  my  gracious  mistress,"  asked  Lisbeth,  "  is  there 
a  chance  that  Mr.  Frederic  will  come  back  ? " 

"Yes,  indeed;  and  we  must  do  everything  that  he 
wishes,  so  that  he  may  be  glad  to  see  me  again.  I  must 
arrange  a  surprise  for  him.'* 

Poor  mother! 


xxvm. 


Bernard  liarriea  along  tlie  shores  of  the  Arlanza.  He  is  like  «  lioa 
rushing  from  his  den,  seeking  the  hunters,  and  resolved  to  conquer  them 
or  die.  The  brave  and  resolute  Spaniard  sets  forth.  With  a  quick  step, 
in  his  hand  a  heavy  spear,  in  which  he  puts  his  trust,  Bernard  traverses 
the  ruins  of  Arlanza.  —  Old  Spanish  Romance. 


ON  descending  from  the  tower  from  whose  summit 
he  had  seen  Munkholm  light,  Ordener  looked  in 
every  direction,  until  he  was  exhausted,  for  his  poor  guide, 
Benignus  Spiagudry.  He  called  him  repeatedly,  but  only 
echo  answered.  Surprised  but  not  alarmed  by  this  in- 
explicable disappearance,  he  attributed  it  to  some  panic 
which  had  seized  upon  the  timid  keeper,  and  after  gen- 
erously blaming  himself  for  having  left  him,  even  for  a 
few  moments,  he  decided  to  spend  the  night  upon  the  cliff, 
in  order  to  give  him  time  to  return.  Then  he  ate  some- 
thing, and  wrapping  himself  in  his  mantle,  laid  down  by 


302  HANS  OF  ICELAND. 

the  dying  embers,  kissed  Ethel's  ringlet,  and  soon  fell 
asleep;  for  an  anxious  heart  cannot  keep  awake  a  man 
whose  conscience  is  clear. 

At  sunrise  he  rose,  but  found  no  trace  of  Spiagudry 
except  his  wallet  and  cloak,  which  had  been  left  in  the 
tower,  showing  that  his  flight  had  been  very  hasty.  Then, 
despairing  of  his  return,  at  least  to  Oelmce  Cliff,  Ordeuer 
resolved  to  set  off  without  him,  for  it  was  on  the  next  day 
that  he  hoped  to  meet  Hans  of  Iceland  at  Walderhog. 

It  has  been  stated  in  the  earlier  chapters  of  this  story 
that  Ordener  had  accustomed  himself  to  the  hardships 
incident  to  a  roving  and  adventurous  life.  Having  already 
travelled  through  northern  Xorway  several  times,  he  did 
not  need  a  guide,  now  that  he  knew  where  to  find  the 
robber.  He  accordingly  turned  his  lonely  steps  toward 
the  northwest,  no  longer  having  Benignus  Spiagudry  at 
his  side  to  tell  him  just  how  much  quartz  or  spar  each  hiU 
contained,  what  traditions  were  connected  with  every  ruin, 
and  whether  this  or  that  gaping  chasm  was  caused  by  an 
ancient  flood  or  by  some  volcanic  action.  He  walked  a 
whole  day  through  those  mountains  which,  proceeding  at 
intervals  like  foot-hills  from  the  principal  chain  trav- 
ersing the  length  of  Norway,  slope  gradually  down  to  the 
sea ;  so  that  the  coast  of  that  country  is  a  mere  succession 
of  promontories  and  fjords,  while  inland  it  is  nothing  but 
a  series  of  mountains  and  valleys,  a  strange  conformation, 
which  has  caused  Norway  to  be  compared  to  the  skeleton 
of  a  great  fish. 

It  was  no  easy  matter  to  travel  in  such  a  region.  Some- 
times he  was  forced  to  follow  the  stony  bed  of  a  dry 


HANS  OF  ICELAND.  303 

stream,  sometimes  to  cross,  by  an  unsteady  bridge  made 
of  a  tree-trunk,  over  a  road  which  torrents  born  but  the 
day  before  had  chosen  for  their  bed. 

Sometimes,  too,  Ordener  would  journey  for  hours  with- 
out seeing  any  sign  of  the  presence  of  man  in  these  wild 
places,  save  an  occasional  glimpse  of  the  sails  of  a  wind- 
mill upon  the  top  of  a  hill,  or  the  sound  of  a  distant 
forge,  whose  smoke  blew  hither  and  thither  like  a  black 
plume,  as  the  wind  shifted  this  way  and  that. 

Now  and  again  he  met  a  peasant  mounted  on  a  little 
gray  pony,  its  head  down,  and  scarcely  more  untamed  than 
its  master ;  or  a  dealer  in  furs  and  skins,  seated  in  his 
sledge,  drawn  by  reindeer,  a  long  rope  fastened  behind,  the 
end  covered  with  knots,  meant  to  frighten  away  wolves, 
as  it  rebounded  from  the  pebbles  in  the  road. 

If  Ordener  asked  this  trader  the  way  to  Walderhog  cave, 
the  travelling  merchant,  familiar  only  with  the  names  and 
positions  of  the  places  to  which  his  business  took  him, 
would  answer  indifferently :  "  Keep  to  the  northwest  till 
you  come  to  Hervalyn  village,  then  cross  Dodlysax  ravine, 
and  by  night  you  will  reach  Surb,  which  is  only  two  miles 
from  Walderhog." 

If  Ordener  put  the  same  question  to  the  peasant,  the 
latter,  deeply  imbued  with  the  traditions  of  the  country 
and  the  fireside  tales,  would  shake  his  head  again  and 
again,  and  stop  his  gray  horse,  as  he  said :  "  Walderhog  1 
Walderhog  cave !  There  the  stones  sing,  the  dry  bones 
dance,  and  the  demon  of  Iceland  dwells ;  it  cannot  be  to 
Walderhog  cave  that  your  worship  wishes  to  go  ? " 

"  Yes,  indeed,"  Ordener  would  reply. 


304  HANS  OF  ICELAND. 

**  Has  your  worship  lost  your  mother,  or  has  fire  de- 
stroyed your  farm,  or  has  one  of  your  neighbors  stolen 
your  fat  pig  ? " 

"  No,  truly,"  the  young  man  would  answer. 

"  Then  some  magician  must  have  cast  a  spell  over  your 
worship's  senses." 

"  My  friend,  I  asked  you  to  tell  me  the  way  to 
Walderhog." 

"  I  am  trying  to  answer  your  question,  sir.  Farewell 
Keep  to  the  north !  I  can  tell  you  how  to  go  there,  but 
I  do  not  know  how  you  will  get  back." 

And  the  peasant  would  ride  off,  crossing  himself  as  he 
went. 

To  the  gloomy  monotony  of  the  road  was  added  the 
inconvenience  of  a  fine,  penetrating  rain,  which  took  pos- 
session of  the  sky  toward  noonday,  and  increased  the 
difiiculties  of  the  way.  No  song-bird  dared  venture  forth  ; 
ind  Ordener,  chilled  to  the  bone  beneath  his  cloak,  saw 
only  the  goshawk  and  the  falcon  hover  above  his  head,  or 
the  kingfisher  fly  up  from  the  reeds  of  a  pond  with  a 
fish  in  its  claws,  startled  by  his  tread. 

It  was  after  dark  when  the  young  traveller,  after  mak- 
ing his  way  through  the  forest  of  aspens  and  beeches 
which  lies  close  to  Dodlysax  ravine,  reached  the  village  of 
Surb,  where  (as  the  reader  may  remember)  Spiagudry  had 
asked  leave  to  establish  his  headquarters.  The  smell  of 
tar  and  the  charcoal  smoke  told  Ordener  that  he  was 
approaching  a  seafaring  population.  He  advanced  to  the 
first  hut  which  he  could  see  through  the  darkness.  Ac- 
cording to  Norwegian  custom,  the  low,  narrow  entrance 


HANS  OF  ICELAND.  305 

was  closed  by  a  large,  transparent  fish-skin,  tinged  at  this 
moment  by  the  flickering  red  light  of  the  fire.  He 
knocked  on  the  wooden  doorpost,  saying, — 

"  It  is  a  traveller  !  " 

"  Come  in,  come  in,"  answered  a  voice  from  within. 

At  the  same  instant  an  eager  hand  raised  the  fish-skin, 
and  Ordener  was  admitted  to  the  cone-shaped  home  of  a 
Norwegian  'longshore  fisherman.  It  was  a  sort  of  circular 
tent  made  of  wood  and  earth,  in  the  centre  of  which  blazed 
a  fire,  where  the  purple  glow  of  turf  was  mixed  with  the 
white  light  of  the  piue.  Beside  this  fire  the  fisherman,  his 
wife,  and  two  children  dressed  in  rags  were  seated  at  a 
table  set  with  wooden  plates  and  earthen  cups.  On  the 
opposite  side  of  the  fire  was  a  pile  of  nets  and  oars ;  a 
couple  of  reindeer  were  asleep  on  a  bed  of  dried  leaves 
and  skins,  which  by  its  ample  size  seemed  intended  also 
as  a  resting-place  for  the  family  and  any  guests  whom  it 
might  please  Heaven  to  send  them.  It  took  more  than 
one  glance  to  make  out  the  arrangement  of  the  hut;  for 
a  thick,  pungent  smoke,  which  found  but  scanty  outlet 
through  a  hole  in  the  pointed  roof,  wrapped  everything 
in  a  misty  but  almost  impenetrable  veil. 

As  soon  as  Ordener  crossed  the  threshold,  the  fisherman 
and  his  wife  rose,  and  returned  his  greeting  in  a  frank  and 
friendly  manner.  Norwegian  peasants  welcome  travellers 
perhaps  as  much  from  a  lively  feeling  of  curiosity  in- 
herent in  their  nature  as  from  their  native  inclination 
to  hospitality. 

"  Sir,"  said  the  fisherman,  "  you  must  be  cold  and 
hungry ;  here  are  fire  to  dry  your  cloak  and  excellent 

TOL.  7X. —  20 


306  HANS  OF  ICELAND. 

bark  bread  to  satisfy  your  appetite.  Afterward  your 
worship  may  be  willing  to  teU  us  who  you  are,  where 
you  come  from,  where  you  are  going,  and  what  stories  the 
gossips  relate  in  your  native  place." 

"  Yes,  sir,"  added  his  wife ;  "  and  you  might  add  to  that 
bark  bread  —  which,  as  my  husband  says,  is  excellent  —  & 
delicious  bit  of  salt  fish,  seasoned  with  whale  oil.  Sii 
down,  stranger." 

"  And  if  your  worship  does  not  like  Saint  Usuph's  ^ 
fare,"  added  the  man,  "  and  will  have  patience  for  a  few 
moments,  I  can  promise  you  a  splendid  piece  of  venison, 
or  at  least  a  pheasant's  wing.  We  are  expecting  a  visit 
from  the  best  hunter  in  the  three  provinces.  Is  n't  that 
so,  good  Maase  ? " 

"  Maase,"  the  name  which  the  fisherman  gave  his  wife, 
is  a  Norwegian  word  meaning  "  sea-gull."  The  wife  did 
not  seem  in  the  least  offended,  either  because  it  was  really 
her  name,  or  because  she  took  it  as  a  term  of  endearment. 

"  The  best  hunter !  I  should  say  so,"  she  answered  with 
great  emphasis.  "  He  means  my  brother,  the  famous 
Kennybol.  God  bless  all  his  undertakings!  He  has 
come  to  spend  a  few  days  with  us,  and  you  shall  drink 
a  mug  of  good  beer  with  him.  He  is  a  traveller  like 
you." 

"  Many  thanks,  my  kind  hostess,"  said  Ordener,  with  a 
smile ;  "  but  I  must  be  content  with  your  tempting  salt 
fish  and  a  bit  of  this  bark  bread.  I  have  not  time  to  wait 
for  your  brother,  the  mighty  hunter.  I  must  set  off  again 
immediately." 

1  The  patron_8aint  of  fishermen. 


HANS  OF  ICELANDl  307 

Good  Maase,  flattered  by  the  stranger's  praises  of  her 
fish  and  her  brother,  and  vexed  at  his  hasty  departure, 
exclaimed :  "  You  are  very  kind,  sir.  But  why  should 
you  leave  us  so  soon  ? " 

« I  must." 

"  Must  you  venture  among  these  mountains  at  this  hour 
and  in  such  weather  ? " 

"  My  business  is  important." 

These  answers  roused  the  native  curiosity  of  the 
young  man's  entertainers  as  much  as  they  excited  their 
surprise. 

The  fisherman  rose,  and  said :  "  You  are  in  the  house 
of  Christopher  Buldus  Braal,  fisherman,  of  the  village  of 
Surb." 

The  woman  added :  "  Maase  Kennybol  is  his  wife  and 
servant." 

When  Norwegian  peasants  wish  to  ask  a  stranger's 
name  in  polite  style,  it  is  their  custom  to  tell  him  their 
own. 

Ordener  answered :  **  And  I  am  a  traveller,  who  is 
neither  sure  of  the  name  he  bears  nor  of  the  road  he 
travels." 

This  strange  reply  did  not  seem  to  satisfy  fisher 
Braal. 

"By  the  crown  of  Gorman  the  Old,"  said  he,  "I  did 
not  suppose  there  was  more  than  one  man  in  Norway  just 
now  who  was  not  sure  of  his  name.  I  mean  the  noble 
Baron  Thorwick,  who  is  to  change  his  name,  they  say,  to 
Count  Danneskiold,  on  account  of  his  famous  marriage  to 
the  chancellor's  daughter.     At  least,  dear  Maase,  that's 


308  HANS  OF  ICELAND. 

the  latest  news  from  Throndhjem.  I  congratulate  you, 
stranger,  upon  this  likeness  between  you  and  the  son  of 
the  viceroy,  the  great  Count  Guldenlew." 

"As  your  worship,"  added  the  wife,  her  face  beaming 
with  curiosity,  "  does  not  seem  able  to  tell  us  anything 
about  yourself,  can  you  not  tell  us  something  about  what 
is  going  on  just  now,  for  instance,  something  about  this 
wonderful  marriage  of  which  my  husband  speaks  ? " 

"Yes,"  rejoined  her  husband,  with  a  self-important  air, 
"  that 's  the  very  latest  news.  Within  a  month  the  vice- 
roy's son  will  marry  the  chancellor's  daughter." 

"I  doubt  it,"  said  Ordener. 

"You  doubt  it,  sir!  I  assure  you  that  the  thing  is 
certain.  I  have  it  on  the  best  authority.  The  fellow 
who  told  me  had  it  from  Mr.  Poel,  the  favorite  servant 
of  the  noble  Baron  Thorwick,  —  that  is,  the  noble  Count 
Danneskiold.  Can  any  storm  have  troubled  the  waters 
within  the  week  ?  Has  this  grand  match  been  broken 
off?" 

"  I  think  so,"  replied  the  young  man,  smiling. 

"  If  that  is  so,  sir,  I  am  wrong.  Never  light  the  fire  to 
fry  the  fish  before  it  is  in  the  net.  But  have  they  really 
quarrelled  ?     Who  told  you  so  ? " 

"  Nobody,"  said  Ordener.     "  I  merely  imagined  so.* 

At  this  frank  confession  the  fisherman  could  not  help 
transgressing  the  laws  of  Norwegian  courtesy  by  a  loud 
burst  of  laughter. 

"  A  thousand  pardons,  sir.  But  it  is  easy  to  see  that 
you  are  indeed  a  traveller,  and  probably  a  stranger.  Do 
you  fancy  that  things  will  turn  out  as  you  happen  to 


HANS  OF  ICELAND.  309 

wish,  and  that  the  sky  will  be  clear  or  cloudy  at  your 
caprice  ? " 

Here  the  fisherman,  well  versed  in  the  affairs  of  the 
nation,  as  all  Norse  peasants  are,  began  to  explain  to 
Ordener  why  this  marriage  could  not  fail  to  take  place : 
it  was  essential  to  the  interests  of  the  d'Ahlefeld  family ; 
the  viceroy  could  not  refuse  the  king,  who  desired  it; 
besides,  it  was  said  that  the  future  husband  and  wife  were 
very  much  in  love.  In  a  word,  fisher  Braal  could  not 
doubt  that  the  match  would  come  off;  he  only  wished  he 
was  as  sure  of  killing  next  day  that  confounded  dogfish 
which  infested  Master-Bick  pond. 

Ordener  was  little  inclined  to  carry  on  a  political  dis- 
cussion with  so  uncouth  a  statesman,  and  was  delighted 
when  the  arrival  of  another  guest  relieved  him  of  all 
embarrassment. 

"  It  is  he  ;  it  is  my  brother ! "  cried  old  Maase. 

And  no  less  event  than  the  arrival  of  her  brother  could 
have  diverted  her  from  the  rapt  admiration  with  which 
she  listened  to  her  husband's  lengthy  discourse. 

The  latter,  while  the  two  children  threw  themselves 
noisily  upon  their  uncle's  neck,  quietly  offered  him  his 
hand,  saying, — 

"  Welcome,  brother." 

Then,  turning  to  Ordener :  "  Sir,  this  is  our  brother, 
the  famous  hunter  Kennybol,  from  the  mountains  of 
Kiolen," 

"  A  hearty  greeting  to  you  all,"  said  the  mountaineer, 
taking  off  his  bearskin  cap.  "  Brother,  I  've  had  as  bad 
luck  in  hunting  upon  your  coast  as  you  would  probably 


810  HANS  OF  ICELAND 

have  had  if  you  had  gone  fishing  in  our  mountains.  I 
think  I  could  sooner  fill  my  game-bag  if  I  chased  elves 
and  goblins  in  the  misty  forests  of  Queen  Mab,  Sister 
Maase,  you  are  the  first  sea-mew  whom  I  have  caught 
sight  of  to-day.  Here,  friends,  God  keep  you !  but  this 
wretched  grouse  is  all  that  the  best  hunter  in  the  province 
of  Throndhjem  has  got  in  a  whole  day's  tramp  through 
the  heather  in  this  weather." 

With  these  words  he  drew  from  his  pouch  and  laid  on 
the  table  a  white  ptarmigan,  declaring  that  it  was  not 
worth  a  shot. 

"  But,"  he  muttered  between  his  teeth,  "  my  faithful 
arquebuse,  you  shall  soon  hunt  far  bigger  game.  If  you 
can  bring  down  no  more  chamois  or  elk  skins,  you  shall 
make  holes  in  green  jackets  and  red  jerkins." 

These  words,  but  half  heard,  struck  the  curious  Maase. 

"  Eh  ! "  asked  she  ;  "  what  did  you  say,  brother  ?  " 

"  I  said  that  there  was  always  a  goblin  dancing  under 
a  woman's  tongue." 

"  You  are  right,  brother  Kennybol,"  cried  the  fisherman. 
"  Eve's  daughters  are  all  curious,  like  their  mother. 
Were  n't  you  talking  of  green  jackets  ? " 

"  Brother  Braal,"  replied  the  hunter,  with  some  spirit, 
**  I  trust  my  secrets  to  no  one  but  my  musket,  because  I 
am  sure  that  then  they  will  never  be  repeated." 

"  There 's  talk  in  the  village,"  boldly  continued  the 
fisherman,  "  of  a  revolt  among  the  miners.  Do  you  know 
anything  about  it,  brother  ? " 

The  mountaineer  picked  up  his  cap  and  pulled  it  over 
his  eyes,  with  a  sidelong  look  at  the  stranger ;  then  he 


HANS  OF  ICELAND.  311 

bent  toward  the  fisherman  and  said  in  a  low,  stem 
tone:  "Silence!" 

The  fisherman  shook  his  nead  several  times. 

"  Brother  Kennybol,  the  fish  may  be  silent,  but  it  falls 
into  the  net  all  the  same." 

There  was  a  short  pause.  The  two  brothers  exchanged 
meaning  glances ;  the  children  picked  the  feathers  from 
the  ptarmigan  as  it  lay  on  the  table ;  the  good  wife 
listened,  and  hoped  to  guess  more  than  was  actuuLy  said ; 
and  Ordener  studied  them  alL 

"If  you  have  but  meagre  fare  to-day,"  suddenly  ob- 
served the  hunter,  evidently  anxious  to  change  the  sub- 
ject, "  it  shall  not  be  so  to-morrow.  Brother  Braal,  catch 
the  king  of  fish,  if  you  can,  for  I  promise  you  plenty  of 
bear's  grease  to  dress  it." 

"  Bear's  grease  ! "  cried  Maase.  "  Has  any  one  seen  a 
bear  in  the  neighborhood  ?  Patrick,  Eegner,  my  boys,  I 
forbid  you  to  leave  the  house.     A  bear ! " 

"Make  yourself  easy,  sister;  j^ou  will  have  nothing 
to  fear  from  him  after  to-morrow.  Yes,  it  was  really 
a  bear  that  I  saw  about  two  miles  away  from  Surb, — 
a  white  bear.  He  seemed  to  be  carrying  off  a  man,  or 
rather  an  animal.  But  no,  it  may  hava  been  a  goat- 
herd, for  goatherds  dress  in  the  skins  of  animals ;  hew- 
ever,  I  was  not  near  enough  to  tell.  What  ania2ed  me, 
was  that  he  carried  his  prey  on  his  back,  and  not  in 
his  teeth." 

"  Eeally,  brother  ? " 

"  Yes ;  and  the  creature  must  have  been  dead,  fo*  it 
made  no  attempt  to  defend  itself." 


312  HANS  OF  ICELAND. 

"  But,"  sagely  inquired  the  fisherman,  "  if  it  were  dead, 
how  did  it  stay  on  the  bear's  back  ? " 

"  That 's  more  than  I  can  say.  Never  mind ;  it  shall  be 
the  bear's  last  meal.  As  I  entered  the  village  I  engaged 
six  strong  companions,  and  to-morrow,  sister  Maase,  I  will 
bring  you  the  handsomest  white  fur  that  ever  ran  over 
mountain  snow." 

"  Take  care,  brother,"  said  the  woman ;  "  you  have  seen 
strange  things,  truly.     That  bear  may  be  the  Devil." 

"  Are  you  mad  ? "  interrupted  the  mountaineer,  with  a 
laugh ;  "  the  Devil  change  himself  into  a  bear,  indeed ! 
Into  a  cat  or  a  monkey,  I  grant  you  ;  but  to  a  bear  !  Oh, 
by  Saint  Eldon  the  exerciser,  you  're  worse  than  any  child 
nr  old  woman,  with  your  superstition  ! " 

The  poor  woman  hung  her  head. 

"  Brother,  you  were  my  lord  and  master  before  my 
revered  husband  cast  his  eyes  upon  me;  do  as  your 
gl^ardian  angel  bids  you." 

"But,"  the  fisherman  asked  the  mountaineer,  "where 
did  yon  meet  with  this  bear  ? " 

"  Between  Lake  Miosen  and  Walderhog." 

"  Walderhog ! "  said  the  woman,  crossing  herself. 

"  Walderhog ! "  repeated  Ordener. 

"But,  brother,"  rejoined  the  fisherman;  "I  hope  you 
were  not  travelling  toward  Walderhog." 

"  I !  Heaven  forbid ;  it  was  the  bear." 

"Shall  you  go  there  to-morrow  in  search  of  him?" 
broke  in  the  terrified  Maase. 

"  No,  truly ;  how  can  you  suppose,  friends,  that  even  a 
bear  would  venture  to  take  refuge  in  a  cave  where  —  " 


HANS  OF  ICELAND.  313 

He  stopped  short,  and  all  three  made  the  sign  of  the 
cross. 

"You  are  right,"  replied  the  fisherman;  "wild  beasts 
would  be  warned  away  by  their  instinct." 

"  My  good  friends,"  said  Ordener,  "  what  is  there  so 
frightful  about  this  Walderhog  cave  ? " 

They  looked  at  one  another  in  stupid  surprise,  as  if 
they  could  not  understand  such  a  question. 

**  Is  that  where  King  Walder's  tomb  is  ? "  added  the 
young  man. 

"  Yes,"  replied  the  woman ;  "  a  stone  tomb  which 
sings." 

"  And  that 's  not  all,"  said  the  fisherman. 

"  No,"  she  added  ;  "  the  bones  of  the  dead  dance  there 
6y  night." 

"  And  that 's  not  all,"  said  the  mountaineer. 

All  were  silent,  as  if  they  dared  not  go  on. 

"  Well,"  asked  Ordener,  "  what  else  is  there  that  is 
supernatural  ? " 

"  Young  man,"  said  the  mountaineer,  gravely,  "  you 
should  not  speak  so  lightly;  when  you  see  an  old  gray 
wolf  like  me,  shudder." 

The  young  man  answered,  with  a  gentle  smile :  "  Still, 
I  should  like  to  know  all  the  marvels  which  occur  in 
this  Walderhog  cave;  for  that  is  exactly  where  I  am 
going." 

These  words  seemed  to  turn  his  three  hearers  into 
stone. 

"  To  Walderhog !  Heavens  I  are  you  going  to  Walder- 
hog?" 


814  HANS  OF  ICELAND. 

"And  lie  says  that,"  rejoined  the  fisherman,  "just  as  I 
might  say  I'm  going  to  Loevig  to  sell  my  codfish,  or 
to  Ealph's  meadow  for  herring.  To  Walderhog !  Great 
Heavens ! " 

"  Poor  young  man  ! "  cried  the  wife ;  "  were  you  born 
without  a  guardian  angel?  Have  you  no  patron  saint? 
Alas !  it  must  be  so ;  for  you  do  not  even  seem  to  know 
your  own  name." 

"And  what  motive,"  broke  in  the  mountaineer,  "can 
lead  your  worship  to  that  fearful  spot?" 

"  I  have  a  question  to  ask,"  answered  Ordener. 

The  astonishment  of  his  hosts  grew  with  their  curiosity. 

"See  here,  stranger;  you  do  not  seem  to  be  familiar 
with  this  part  of  the  country.  Your  worship  is  doubt- 
less mistaken ;  it  cannot  be  to  Walderhog  that  you  wish 
to  go." 

"  Besides,"  added  the  mountaineer,  "  if  you  want  to 
speak  with  any  human  being,  you  will  find  none  there." 

"  None  but  the  demon,"  rejoined  the  woman. 

"  The  demon  !    What  demon  ? " 

"Yes,"  she  added;  "the  one  for  whom  the  tomb  sings 
and  the  dead  dance." 

"  Then  you  do  not  know,  sir,"  said  the  fisherman,  drop- 
ping his  voice  and  approaching  Ordener,  —  "you  do  not 
know  that  Walderhog  cave  is  the  favorite  abode  of — " 

The  woman  stopped  him. 

"  Husband,  do  not  speak  that  name ;  it  brings  ill  luck." 

"  Whose  abode  ? "  asked  Ordener. 

"  That  of  Beelzebub  incarnate,"  said  Kennybol. 

"Eeally,  my  kind  hosts,  I  know  not  what  you  mean. 


HANS  OF  ICELAND.  315 

I  was  surely  told  that  Walderhog  was  the  haunt  of  Hans 
of  Iceland." 

A  triple  cry  of  terror  arose. 

"  Well  I  —  Then  you  do  know  t  —  He  is  the  demon  we 
mean  I " 

The  woman  drew  her  woollen  kerchief  over  her  face, 
and  called  on  all  the  saints  to  witness  that  it  was  not 
she  who  uttered  that  name. 

When  the  fisherman  had  somewhat  recovered  from  his 
surprise,  he  looked  steadily  at  Ordener,  as  if  there  were 
something  about  that  young  man  which  he  could  not 
comprehend. 

"I  did  not  expect,  stranger,  that  even  if  I  lived  still 
longer  than  my  father,  who  died  at  the  age  of  one  hun- 
dred and  twenty,  I  should  ever  have  to  show  the  road  to 
Walderhog  to  any  human  being  possessed  of  his  senses 
and  believing  in  God." 

"Surely  not,"  cried  Maase ;  "your  worship  will  not  go 
to  that  accursed  cave;  for  if  one  only  step  foot  inside, 
he  must  make  a  compact  with  the  Devil!" 

"I  must  go,  my  kind  hosts,  and  the  greatest  aervice 
that  you  can  do  me  is  to  show  me  the  shortest  road 
there." 

**  The  shortest  way  to  reach  the  place  where  you  wish 
to  go,"  said  the  fisherman,  "  is  to  throw  yourself  from  the 
top  of  the  nearest  rock  into  the  next  torrent." 

"  Should  I  reach  the  same  end,"  quietly  asked  Ordener, 
*'  by  preferring  a  useless  death  to  a  profitable  danger  ? " 

Braal  shook  his  head,  while  his  brother  looked  scruti' 
nizingly  at  the  young  adventurer. 


316  HANS  OF  ICELAND. 

"  I  understand,"  suddenly  exclaimed  the  fisherman ; 
*you  want  to  earn  the  thousand  crowns  reward  which  the 
lord  mayor  offers  for  the  head  of  this  Iceland  demon." 

Ordener  smiled. 

"  Young  sir,"  added  the  fisherman,  with  deep  emotion, 
"  take  my  advice ;  give  up  your  scheme.  I  am  old  and 
poor,  and  I  would  not  sell  the  remnant  of  my  life  for  a 
thousand  crowns  if  1  had  but  one  day  left." 

The  woman,  with  a  beseeching,  compassionate  look, 
watched  the  effect  of  her  husband's  entreaties.  Ordener 
made  haste  to  reply  :  "  It  is  a  much  higher  motive  which 
ieads  me  to  seek  this  robber  whom  you  call  a  demon ;  it 
is  for  the  sake  of  others,  not  my  own  —  " 

The  mountaineer,  who  had  not  taken  his  eyes  from 
<Jrdener,  interrupted  him. 

"1  understand  you  now.  I  know  why  you  seek  the 
demon  of  Iceland." 

"  I  wish  to  force  him  to  fight,"  said  the  young  man. 

"  That 's  it,"  said  Kennybol ;  "  you  are  intrusted  with 
important  interests,  are  you  not?" 

"  So  I  just  said." 

The  mountaineer  approached  the  young  man  with  an 
air  of  great  intelligence,  and  to  his  utter  amazement  whis- 
pered in  his  ear:  "You  come  from  Count  Schumacker, 
from  Griffeufeld,  do  you  not  ? " 

'•  Good  man,"  he  exclaimed,  "  how  did  you  know  that  ? " 

And,  indeed,  it  was  hard  for  him  to  guess  how  a  Nor- 
wegian mountaineer  came  to  know  a  secret  which  he  had 
confided  to  no  one,  not  even  to  General  Levin. 

Kennybol  leaned  toward  him. 


HANS  OF  ICELAND.  317 

"  I  wish  you  success,"  he  observed  in  the  same  mysteri- 
ous whisper.  "  You  are  a  noble  young  man  to  labor  thus 
for  the  oppressed." 

Ordener's  surprise  was  so  great  that  he  could  scarcely 
find  words  to  inquire  how  the  mountaineer  had  learned 
the  purpose  of  his  journey. 

"  Silence  ! "  said  Kennybol,  putting  his  finger  to  his  lip. 
"  I  hope  that  you  may  gain  all  that  you  desire  from  the 
dweller  in  Walderhog ;  my  arm,  like  yours,  is  loyal  to  the 
prisoner  of  Munkholm." 

Then,  raising  his  voice,  before  Ordener  could  answer,  he 
added:  "Brother,  dear  sister  Maase,  regard  this  worthy 
youth  as  another  brother.  Come,  I  think  supper  is 
ready." 

'What!"  interrupted  Maase,  "have  you  persuaded  his 
worship  to  give  up  his  plan  for  visiting  the  demon  ?  " 

"  Sister,  pray  that  no  harm  may  come  to  him.  He  is 
a  noble  and  worthy  young  man.  Come,  brave  sir,  take 
some  food  and  a  little  rest  beneath  our  roof ;  to-morrow  I 
will  show  you  your  road,  and  we  wiU  set  out  in  search, 
—  you  of  the  Devil,  and  I  of  my  bear." 


XXIX. 


Comrade,  ah  ?  comrade,  what  comrade's  son  art  thon  T    From  what  i«c« 
canst  thou  have  sprung  to  dare  attack  Fafnir  thus  ?  —  £dda. 


THE  first  rays  of  the  rising  sun  were  just  reddening 
the  highest  peak  of  the  rocks  upon  the  seacoast, 
when  the  fisherman,  who  had  come  before  the  dawn 
to  cast  his  nets  off  the  shore  opposite  the  mouth  of 
Walderhog  cave,  saw  a  figure  wrapped  in  a  cloak  or 
shroud  descend  from  the  rocks,  and  disappear  beneath 
the  much-dreaded  arched  roof  of  the  cavern.  Struck 
with  terror,  he  commended  his  boat  and  his  soul  to 
Saint  Usuph,  and  ran  to  tell  his  frightened  family  that 
he  had  seen  one  of  the  ghosts  which  dwell  in  the  palace 
of  Hans  of  Iceland  return  to  the  cave  at  daybreak. 

This  ghost,  thenceforth  the  theme  and  dread  of  many  a 
long  winter  evening,  was  no  other  than  Ordener,  the  noble 


HANS  OF  ICELAND.  319 

son  of  tlie  Norwegian  viceroy,  who,  while  both  kingdoms 
fancied  him  absorbed  in  paying  tender  attentions  to  his 
haughty  betrothed,  had  come  alone  and  unknown  to  risk 
his  life  for  her  to  whom  he  had  given  his  heart  and  his 
future,  for  the  daughter  of  a  proscribed  man. 

Evil  omens,  sad  forebodings,  had  thus  far  accompanied 
him.  He  had  left  the  fisherman  and  his  family,  and 
as  they  parted,  good  Maase  knelt  and  prayed  for  him. 
Kennybol  and  his  six  comrades,  who  had  pointed  out 
the  right  road,  quitted  him  within  half  a  mile  of  Walder- 
bog,  and  those  dauntless  hunters  who  sallied  forth  to 
face  a  bear  with  a  laugh  on  their  lips,  gazed  in  terror 
upon  the  fearless  traveller  as  he  followed  that  unhallowed 
path. 

The  young  man  entered  Walderhog  cave  as  he  might 
have  entered  a  long-wished-for  haven.  He  felt  a  trans- 
port of  delight  as  he  thought  that  he  was  about  to  accom- 
plish the  object  of  his  life,  and  that  in  a  few  moments  he 
might  perhaps  shed  his  last  drop  of  blood  for  his  EtheL 
About  to  attack  a  brigand  dreaded  by  an  entire  province, 
it  might  be  a  monster,  a  very  demon,  it  was  not  that 
frightful  image  which  filled  his  fancy ;  he  saw  only  the 
figure  of  the  sweet  captive  maid,  praying  perhaps  for  him 
before  her  prison  altar.  Had  the  object  of  his  devotion 
been  any  other  than  it  was,  he  might  have  weighed  for  an 
instant,  only  to  scorn  them,  the  dangers  in  search  of  which 
he  had  journeyed  so  far ;  but  what  room  is  there  for 
reflection  in  a  youthful  heart  throbbing  with  the  double 
stimulus  of  heroic  sacrifice  and  noble  love  ? 

He  advanced  proudly  into  the  vaulted   cavern,  v;hich 


320  HANS  OF  ICELAND. 

echoed  and  re-echoed  the  sound  of  his  footsteps,  not  deign- 
ing even  a  glance  at  the  stalactites  and  the  century-old 
columns  of  basalt  which  towered  above  hira  amid  mosses, 
lichen,  and  ivy,  —  a  confused  medley  of  weird  forms,  from 
which  the  superstitious  credulity  of  the  Norwegian  country- 
folk had  more  than  once  created  hosts  of  evil  spirits  or 
long  processions  of  ghosts. 

With  the  same  indifference  he  passed  the  tomb  of  King 
Walder,  to  which  so  many  mournful  legends  cling,  and 
he  heard  no  voice  save  the  long-drawn  sigh  of  the  north 
wind  through  those  gloomy  galleries. 

He  traversed  winding  passages,  dimly  lighted  by  crev- 
ices half  stopped  with  grass  and  heather^  Ever  and  anon 
he  stumbled  over  strange  objects,  which  rolled  from  be- 
neath his  foot  with  a  hollow  sound,  and  assumed  in  the 
darkness  the  shape  of  broken  skulls  or  long  rows  of  white 
teeth  with  fleshless  gums. 

But  his  soul  was  undismayed.  He  was  only  surprised 
that  he  had  not  yet  encountered  the  much-dreaded  inhabi- 
tant of  this  horrible  cave. 

He  reached  a  sort  of  circular  hall,  hewn  from  the  rock. 
Here  the  subterranean  road  which  he  had  thus  far  followed 
came  to  an  end,  and  the  rocky  walls  were  without  exit, 
save  for  a  few  wide  fissures,  through  which  he  saw  the 
mountains  and  woods  outside. 

Amazed  that  he  should  have  thus  traversed  the  fatal 
cavern  in  vain,  he  began  to  despair  of  finding  the  brigand 
A  singular  monument  in  the  middle  of  the  underground 
hall  caught  his  attention.  Three  long,  massive  bowlders, 
standing  upright,  supported  a  fourth,  broad  and  square,  as 


HANS  OF  ICELAND.  321 

three  pillars  might  uphold  a  roof.  Beneath  this  gigantic 
tripod  was  an  altar,  also  formed  of  a  single  block  of  gran- 
ite, with  a  round  hole  in  the  middle  of  its  upper  surface. 
Ordener  recognized  it  as  one  of  those  colossal  Druidic 
structures  which  he  had  often  seen  in  travelling  through 
Norway,  the  most  amazing  instances  being  found  in 
France,  at  Lokmariaker  and  Karnak,  —  wondrous  fabrics 
which  have  grown  old,  resting  upon  the  earth  like  tents 
pitched  for  a  day,  and  made  solid  by  their  mere  weight. 

The  young  man,  lost  in  thought,  leaned  mechanically 
against  this  altar,  whose  stone  lips  were  stained  dark 
brown,  so  deep  had  they  drunk  of  the  blood  of  human 
victims. 

All  at  once  he  started.  A  voice,  apparently  proceeding 
from  the  stone,  fell  upon  his  ear :  "  Young  man,  you  come 
to  this  place  with  feet  which  touch  the  tomb." 

He  rose  quickly,  and  his  hand  sought  his  sword,  while 
an  echo,  clear  but  faint  as  the  voice  of  a  dying  man, 
repeated :  "  Young  man,  you  come  to  this  place  with  feet 
which  touch  the  tomb."  At  this  instant  a  hideous  face 
appeared  on  the  other  side  of  the  Druid  altar,  a  face 
crowned  with  red  hair,  and  disfigured  by  a  brutal  sneer. 

"Young  man,"  it  again  repeated,  "you  come  to  this 
place  with  feet  which  touch  the  tomb." 

"And  with  a  hand  which  touches  a  sword,"  calmly 
responded  Ordener. 

The  monster  emerged  from  beneath  the  altar,  revealing 
his  thick-set,  muscular  limbs,  his  wild,  blood-stained  dress, 
his  hooked  hands,  and  his  heavy  stone  axe. 

"  It  is  I,"  he  cried,  with  a  growl  like  that  of  a  wild  beast 

VOL.  IX. —  21  ' 


322  HANS  OF  ICELAND. 

"  And  I,"  answered  Ordener. 

"  I  expected  you." 

"  I  did  more,"  replied  the  bold  young  man ;  **  I  sought 
you  out." 

The  brigand  folded  his  arms. 

"  Do  you  know  who  I  am  ? " 

"  Yes." 

"  And  you  are  not  frightened  ?  ** 

"  Not  now/' 

"  Then  you  were  afraid  to  come  here  ? "  And  the 
monster  tossed  his  head  with  a  look  of  triumph. 

"  Afraid  I  might  not  find  you." 

"  You  bid  me  defiance,  and  your  feet  have  trampled  on 
dead  bodies!" 

"  To-morrow  they  may  tread  upon  your  own." 

The  little  man  quivered  with  rage.  Ordener  stood  mo- 
tionless, in  an  attitude  of  haughty  calm. 

"  Take  care ! "  muttered  the  brigand ;  "  I  will  burst  upon 
you  and  rend  you  as  Norwegian  hailstones  do  a  lady's 
parasoL" 

"  Such  a  shield  would  be  all-sufficient  for  me." 

Something  in  Ordener's  eye  seemed  to  daunt  the  mon- 
ster. He  plucked  the  hairs  from  his  mantle,  as  a  tiger 
might  devour  grass  before  it  springs  upon  its  prey. 

"  You  teach  me  what  pity  means,"  he  said. 

*'  And  you  teach  me  what  it  is  to  scorn." 

"Child,  your  voice  is  soft,  your  face  is  fair,  like  the 
voice  and  the  face  of  a  girl ;  what  death  will  you  choose  ?  ** 

"Your  own." 

The  small  man  laughed. 


HANS  OF  ICELAND.  323 

"  Know  you  not  that  I  am  a  demon,  that  my  spirit  is 
the  spirit  of  Ingulf  the  Destroyer?" 

"  I  know  that  you  are  a  robber,  that  you  commit  murder 
for  the  love  of  gold." 

"  You  are  wrong,"  broke  in  the  monster ;  "  it  is  for  love 
of  blood." 

"  Were  you  not  paid  by  the  d'Ahlefelds  to  slay  Captain 
Dispolsen  ? " 

"  What  are  you  talking  about  ?  What  names  are 
these  ? " 

"  Do  you  not  know  Captain  Dispolsen,  whom  you  killed 
on  Urchtal  Sands  ?  " 

"  That  may  be,  but  I  have  forgotten  him,  as  I  shall 
forget  you  three  days  hence." 

"  Do  you  not  know  Count  d'Ahlefeld,  who  paid  you  to 
steal  an  iron  casket  from  the  captain  ? " 

"D'Ahlefeld!  Stay;  yes,  I  know  him.  I  drank  his 
son's  blood  only  yesterday,  from  my  son's  skull." 

Ordener  shuddered  with  horror. 

*'  Were  you  not  content  with  your  wages  ?  ** 

"  What  wages  ? "  asked  the  brigand. 

"  Hark  ye ;  the  sight  of  you  offends  me ;  I  must  have 
done.  You  stole,  a  week  since,  an  iron  casket  from  one  of 
your  victims,  a  Munkholm  officer,  did  you  not  ? " 

At  the  word  "  Munkholm  "  the  brigand  started. 

"An  officer  from  Munkholm?"  he  muttered.  Then  he 
asked,  with  a  look  of  surprise,  "Are  you  too  an  officer 
from  Munkholm  ? " 

"No,"  said  Ordener. 

"  So  much  the  worse  ! "  and  his  face  clouded. 


324  HANS  OF  ICELAND. 

"Enough  of  this,"  rejoined  the  persistent  Ordener; 
**  where  is  the  casket  that  you  stole  from  the  captain  1 " 

The  little  man  meditated  for  a  moment. 

"  By  Ingulf !  here 's  a  paltry  iron  box  that  occupies 
many  minds.  I  will  promise  you  there  '11  not  be  so  much 
search  for  that  which  holds  your  bones,  if  _^  ever  they  be 
collected  in  a  coffin." 

These  words,  as  they  showed  Ordener  that  the  robber 
knew  the  casket  to  which  he  referred,  revived  his  hope 
of  obtaining  it. 

"  Tell  me  what  you  did  with  that  casket.  Is  it  in 
Count  d'Ahlefeld's  possession  ? " 

"No." 

"  You  lie,  for  you  laugh." 

"  Believe  what  you  will.     What  matters  it  to  me  ? " 

The  monster  had  assumed  a  mocking  air  which  awak- 
ened Ordener's  suspicions.  He  saw  that  there  was  nothing 
to  be  done  but  to  rouse  him  to  fury  if  possible,  or  to 
intimidate  him. 

"Hear  me,"  said  he,  raising  his  voice;  "you  must  give 
me  that  casket." 

The  other  answered  with  a  savage  sneer. 

"  You  must  give  it  to  me  !"  the  young  man  repeated  in 
tones  of  thunder. 

"  Are  you  accustomed  to  issuing  orders  to  buffaloes  and 
bears  ? "  replied  the  monster,  still  sneering. 

"  I  would  give  this  command  to  the  very  Devil  in  hell.** 

"You  may  do  so  ere  long,  if  you  like." 

Ordener  drew  his  sword,  which  gleamed  in  the  darkness 
like  a  flash  of  lightning. 


HANS  OF  ICELAND.  325 

"Obey  me!" 

"  Nay,"  cried  Hans,  brandishing  bis  axe ;  "  I  might 
have  broken  your  bones  and  sucked  your  blood  when  you 
first  appeared,  but  I  restrained  my  wrath ;  I  was  curious 
to  see  the  sparrow  attack  the  vulture." 

"  Wretch,"  exclaimed  Ordener,  "  defend  yourself ! " 

"  'T  is  the  first  time  I  was  ever  told  to  do  so,"  muttered 
the  brigand,  gnashing  his  teeth. 

With  these  words,  he  sprang  upon  the  granite  altar 
and  gathered  himself  together,  like  a  leopard  awaiting 
the  hunter  on  a  high  cliff,  ready  to  spring  upon  him 
unawares. 

From  this  vantage-ground  he  glared  at  the  young  man, 
apparently  seeking  the  best  side  from  which  to  attack  him. 
All  would  have  been  over  with  Ordener  had  he  hesitated 
an  instant.  But  he  gave  the  brigand  no  time  to  consider, 
and  threw  himself  violently  upon  him,  aiming  the  point  of 
his  sword  at  his  face. 

Then  began  the  most  fearful  fight  which  imagination 
can  picture.  The  little  man,  standing  upon  the  altar,  like 
a  statue  on  its  pedestal,  looked  like  one  of  those  horrid 
idols  which,  in  barbarous  ages,  received  in  that  same  spot 
impious  sacrifices  and  sacrilegious  offerings.  I 

His  movements  were  so  rapid  that  upon  whatever  side 
Ordener  attacked  him,  he  always  met  the  monster  face  to 
face,  and  encountered  his  blade.  He  would  have  been 
hewn  in  pieces  at  the  first  onslaught,  had  he  not  had  the 
lucky  forethought  to  wrap  his  mantle  loosely  around  his 
left  arm,  so  that  the  greater  part  of  his  furious  opponent's 
blows  were  foiled  by  this  floating  shield.     Thus  for  some 


326  SANS  OF  ICELAND. 

moments  both  made  useless  though  tremendous  efforts 
to  wound  each  other.  The  small  man's  fiery  gray  eyes 
seemed  starting  from  their  sockets.  Surprised  to  meet 
with  such  vigorous  and  bold  resistance  from  a  foe  appar- 
ently so  feeble,  his  savage  sneers  changed  to  silent  rage. 
The  brutal  immobility  of  the  monster's  features,  and  Or- 
dener's  dauntless  composure  contrasted  strangely  with  the 
swiftness  of  their  motions  and  the  vigor  of  their  attack. 
Not  a  sound  was  heard  but  the  clash  of  weapons,  the 
young  man's  quick  steps,  and  the  hurried  breathing  of 
both  adversaries,  when  the  little  man  uttered  a  fearful 
roar.  The  blade  of  his  axe  had  caught  in  the  folds  of  the 
cloak.  He  braced  himself;  he  shook  his  arm  frantically, 
but  only  succeeded  in  entangling  the  handle  with  the 
blade  in  the  clinging  stuff,  which,  with  every  fresh  effort, 
wound  itself  closer  and  closer  about  it. 

The  dreadful  brigand  felt  the  young  man's  steel  upon 
his  breast. 

"  Once  more  I  ask  you,"  said  the  triumphant  Ordener, 
"  will  you  give  me  that  iron  casket  which  you  stole  like 
a  coward?" 

The  small  man  was  silent  for  an  instant ;  then  he  said, 
with  a  roar :  "  Curse  you,  no  ! " 

Ordener  rejoined,  still  retaining  his  victorious  and 
threatening  attitude  :  "  Consider  ! " 

"  No  ;  I  tell  you  no ! "  repeated  the  brigand. 

The  noble  youth  lowered  his  sword. 

"  Well,"  said  he,  "  release  your  axe  from  the  folds  of  my 
mantle,  and  let  us  fight  it  out." 

With  a  disdainful  langh,  the  monster  answered :  — 


HANS  OF  ICELAND.  327 

"Child,  you  play  the  generous  man,  as  if  I  wanted  your 
indulgence  1 " 

Before  the  astonished  Ordener  could  turn  his  head,  the 
brigand  had  placed  his  foot  on  the  shoulder  of  his  loyal 
victor,  and  at  one  bound  stood  twelve  paces  away  from 
him.  With  another  leap  he  sprang  at  Ordener,  and  hung 
his  entire  weight  upon  him,  as  the  panther  hangs  with 
teeth  and  claws  to  the  flanks  of  the  royal  lion.  His  nails 
dug  deep  into  the  young  man's  shoulders,  his  bony 
knees  were  pressed  into  his  flesh,  while  his  fierce  face 
showed  Ordener  a  bloody  mouth  and  cruel  teeth  ready  to 
tear  him  limb  from  limb.  He  ceased  to  speak ;  no  human 
words  issued  from  his  heaving  chest ;  a  low  roar  mingled 
with  hoarse,  passionate  yells  alone  expressed  his  rage. 
He  was  more  hideous  than  a  wild  beast,  more  monstrous 
than  a  demon ;  he  was  a  man  deprived  of  all  semblance 
of  humanity. 

Ordener  tottered  beneath  the  small  man's  onslaught, 
and  would  have  fallen  at  the  unexpected  shock,  had  not 
one  of  the  heavy  pillars  of  the  Druid  monument  happened 
to  be  just  behind  to  sustain  him.  He  stood  therefore 
half  overthrown  and  gasping  beneath  the  weight  of  his 
fearful  foe.  To  gain  any  idea  of  the  horrible  spectacle 
offered  at  this  moment,  it  must  be  remembered  that  all 
which  we  have  described  occurred  in  far  less  time  than  is 
required  to  write  it. 

As  we  said,  the  noble  youth  tottered,  but  he  did  not 
quake.  He  hastily  addressed  a  farewell  thought  to  Ethel. 
The  thought  of  his  love  was  like  a  prayer ;  it  restored  his 
strength.      He  threw  his  arms  about  the  monster;  then 


328  HANS  OF  ICELAND. 

seizing  his  sword  by  the  middle  of  the  blade,  he  pressed 
the  point  straight  down  upon  his  spine.  The  wounded 
brigand  uttered  a  fearful  scream,  and  with  a  sudden  leap, 
which  shook  off  Ordener,  freed  himself  from  his  bold  ad- 
versary's arms,  and  fell  back  some  paces,  taking  in  his 
teeth  a  fragment  of  the  green  cloak,  which  he  had  bitten 
in  his  fury. 

He  leaped  up,  supple  and  agile  as  a  young  deer,  and  the 
battle  began  again,  for  the  third  time,  more  terrible  than 
ever.  By  chance  there  was,  close  by,  a  pile  of  huge  stones 
over  which  moss  and  weeds  had  grown  for  centuries  undis- 
turbed. Two  ordinary  men  could  scarcely  have  lifted  the 
smallest  of  these  rocks.  Hans  seized  one  in  both  arms 
and  raised  it  above  his  head,  poising  it  toward  Ordener. 
His  expression  was  frightful.  The  stone,  flung  with  great 
violence,  moved  heavily  through  the  air ;  the  young  man 
had  just  time  to  spring  aside.  The  granite  bowlder  broke 
to  fragments  against  the  subterranean  wall  with  a  tremen- 
dous noise,  which  was  echoed  back  for  many  moments 
from  the  depths  of  the  cavern. 

Ordener,  stunned  and  amazed,  had  barely  time  to  re- 
cover before  a  second  mass  of  stone  was  poised  in  the 
brigand's  grasp.  Vexed  that  he  should  seem  to  stand 
like  a  coward  to  be  pelted,  he  rushed  toward  the  small 
man,  with  uplifted  sword,  to  change  this  mode  of  warfare ; 
but  the  fearful  missile,  launched  like  a  thunderbolt,  as  it 
moved  through  the  dense,  dark  air  of  the  cave  encountered 
the  bare  and  slender  blade  ;  the  steel  was  dashed  to  pieces 
like  a  bit  of  glass,  and  the  monster's  fierce  laush  rang 
out.     Ordener  was  disarmed. 


HANS  OF  ICELAND.  329 

*'  Have  you,"  cried  the  monster,  "  aught  tu  say  to  God 
or  the  Devil  ere  you  die  ? " 

And  his  eye  darted  flame,  and  all  his  muscles  swelled 
with  rage  and  joy,  and  he  flung  himself  with  a  thrill  of 
impatience  upon  his  axe,  which,  wrapped  in  the  cloak, 
lay  upon  the  ground.     Poor  Ethel ! 

All  at  once  a  distant  roar  was  heard  outside.  The 
monster  paused.  The  noise  increased ;  shouts  of  men 
were  mingled  with  the  plaintive  moan  of  a  bear.  The 
brigand  listened.  The  cries  of  pain  continued.  He 
hastily  seized  his  axe,  and  sprang,  not  toward  Ordener, 
but  toward  one  of  the  crevices  in  the  rock.  Ordener, 
overwhelmed  with  surprise  to  find  himself  thus  unno- 
ticed, hurried  in  his  turn  to  one  of  these  natural  doors, 
and  saw  in  a  neighboring  glade  a  large  white  bear  at  bay, 
surrounded  by  seven  hunters,  among  whom  he  thought  he 
recognized  Kennybol,  whose  words  had  made  such  an 
impression  upon  him  the  night  before. 

He  turned  back.  The  brigand  had  left  the  cave,  and 
a  fearful  voice  outside  shouted :  "  Friend  1  Friend  1  I  am 
here  I  I  am  here  1 " 


AA    000  892  403    7 


